


The Librarian

by madeleone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, F/M, Post War, Romance, friendships, sshg_giftfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5576533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeleone/pseuds/madeleone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus needs someone to help him organize an inheritance, Dumbledore's private library. A tip leads him to a mysterious woman known only as the Librarian.</p><p> This fic was written for the 2015 sshg_giftfest on livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrebabe](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sabrebabe).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for the 2015 sshg_giftfest at LiveJournal for promps given by sabrebabe. I will post the prompts at the end of the last chapter.
> 
> This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own HP for do I make any money here.
> 
> Many thanks go to my Beta Delphipsmith for all her hard work and comma wrangling and also to my alpha reader Morethansirius for her helpful suggestions. You ladies are great!

The Librarian

Chapter 1

  


 

After over a decade of waiting for the legalities of Albus Dumbledore's will to be argued over, _ad nauseam,_ by the press, the lawyers, the Ministry, and an endless line of Dumbledore's previously nonexistent relatives, the estate had finally been settled. As per Albus' wishes, his personal library was now the property of Severus Snape.

  


It had been delivered just this afternoon to Severus' home in Wiltshire. Shortly after the war, while he was still in St. Mungos, his childhood home on Spinners End had burned to the ground. Whether the event had been accidental or intentional was never proven, but Severus had his suspicions. Upon his eventual discharge from the hospital, his old friend Lucius had offered him the use of the dower house at the very edge of the Malfoy estates. The home had sat empty for many years, and while it was no Malfoy Manor, it was indeed a far step up from the two up two down he'd been used to.

  


Severus had been informed just yesterday to expect delivery this afternoon and in anticipation of such had cleared off an entire section of shelves in his library. The moving crew had come and gone and he sat now staring in utter disbelief. He'd been pleased to be the recipient of Albus' collection, but in reality, he'd been totally unprepared. Instead of the dozen or so cartons he'd expected, every clear bit of floor space was now covered by boxes and crates. They were piled waist high in some places and the overflow bled out into the hallway. He was completely overwhelmed.

  


Unsure where to start, he Floo-called the manor. The Malfoy library was legendary, Lucius would surely have a suggestion on where to start organizing his acquisition.

  


~*~

  


Lucius stood in the door of Severus' library, his hand over his mouth as he gazed around the room in awe. “Good lord, Severus, it's unbelievable. Where would one even begin?”

  


“You're asking me? I was hoping you would have a suggestion,” said Severus. “I was expecting a few crates, nothing like this. I don't have time to sort through all of this on my own or to do a proper job of it.”

  


“I understand.” Lucius, donning gloves, cautiously lifted a faded parchment, examining it with interest. “Some of the oldest books and scrolls will need to be handled with extreme care, you can't just be flicking your wand and sending them about willy-nilly. I'd imagine some may need a bit of restoration as well. This task calls for someone with special skills.”

  


“I agree, I just don't know who.” Severus shoved a few crates to the side to get to the liquor cabinet in the corner to pour them each a drink. Merlin knew he needed one. He handed one to Lucius and they both surveyed the room, each lost in his own thoughts.  After several minutes of silent contemplation, Severus spoke, “I suppose I could contact Minerva and find out what Irma has been up to since she retired. Perhaps she'd be willing to assist.”

  


Lucius frowned. “No offense to Madam Pince, but Dumbledore's is a very complex collection of magical works. I think you're going to need someone with strong magic, someone with the specific skills necessary to deal with the job. Some of these books...” he paused to eye a couple of the crates that were not only nailed shut but bound tightly with a multitude of chains and magical padlocks… “will need extremely careful handling and powerful magic to keep them in line, and someone with the experience to handle the job.”

  


“Irma spent years as the Hogwarts librarian. I'd say she has had plenty of experience,” objected Severus.

  


“And as I said, no offense intended, but the bulk of the Hogwarts library was already in place when she got the job. She didn't have to build it or organize it from scratch, she was more of a custodian. Also, I've no doubt that some of the books here in Albus' collection contain extremely dark material, things the likes of which Madame Pince never encountered in a school library—even in the restricted section. You need someone who can sort through it all and wrangle even the most difficult books in the collection.”

  


Severus eyed Lucius speculatively. “So you do know someone.”

  


“Not personally,” replied Lucius, “but I have heard very good things about a librarian and book restorer in northern Scotland. She's something of a recluse though. It's said that she keeps to herself, refuses to have anything at all to do with the Ministry or wizarding society, lives among Muggles, in fact.” He gave Severus a smirk. “Sounds to me as if the two of you would get along famously. However, in spite of all this, she's said to be the best of the best when it comes to organization and restoration of books of any kind, be it Muggle or Magical. Leonid Markovski couldn't stop singing her praises over the work she did rejuvenating his great grandfather's library.”

  


“Markovski? I don't think I know him,” replied Severus.

  


“Bulgarian—a distant relative of the Krum's, I believe,” said Lucius. “She's a witch, but she works for Muggles, too, from what I understand: universities, museums and the like. She's in such very high demand that she can afford to pick and choose which jobs she takes on, and she only takes the jobs that interest her. At the risk of repeating myself, she does sound remarkably like someone else I know,” Lucius said, looking pointedly at Severus. “Still, I can't imagine that having the chance to muck about with Dumbledore's collection wouldn't be an enormous draw for her.”

  


“And what might this paragon's name be?” inquired Severus.

  


“I honestly don't know. That's what's odd about the whole thing, you see. The card Leonid Owled me simply says 'The Librarian' at The Bibliothecary's Corner, 1313 Pennywhistle Lane, Thurso.”

  


“That's rather cryptic, don't you think?”

  


“Oh, yes indeed, old friend, I do. A mystery in need of solving. Don't you agree?”

  


~*~

  


Hermione stood inside the doorway of the Dancing Goat. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside the pub before she spotted Harry and Ron waving at her from a table near the back. She'd been looking forward to tonight, yet dreading it as well. They were her oldest friends, but sometimes Hermione felt that with each passing year they drifted further apart. They were lucky these days if they could manage to get together even once or twice a year. Shaking off the feeling of sadness, Hermione plastered a smile on her face and hurried over to greet her friends.

  


Moments later, after exchanging a bone-crushing hug with each of the 'boys', Hermione settled into the chair between them.

  


“You're late,” accused Ron, the grin on his face revealed he was teasing.

  


“Late?” Hermione looked at her watch. “I'm not late. In fact, I'm fifteen minutes early,” she said with a laugh.

  


“Well, maybe it just feels like you're late because we came early ourselves,” said Harry with a grin. “I guess we were just anxious to see you. It's been much too long, Hermione. ”

  


“Yeah,” agreed Ron. “Nearly a year it's been now. We'd have seen you in December, if you hadn't canceled on us over the holidays...”

  


“I explained then, that is my busiest time of year, I just couldn't get away,” Hermione defended herself. Although truthfully she could have, but she'd chosen not to.

  


“Let's not hash that over now. As I was saying, we stopped by your shop but instead of surprising you, we found Luna there. She said you were working from home today. Since your business is a bookshop, I don't quite understand how that works. Care to explain?” asked Harry.

  


“And I thought you lived in the apartment behind the shop, but Luna said she's living there now and you've moved to a house outside of town. You didn't even tell us, Hermione,” complained Ron.

  


“We had no idea Luna was even working for you either,” added Harry.

  


“Yeah, what's that all about? Do you honestly think that's a good idea, Hermione?” asked Ron.

  


Hermione glared at him. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  


“Well, it's just that she's—you know—Luna. She was a little strange to begin with and since that accident in the Department of Mysteries, she's even more odd. I heard that she lost most of her magic altogether and now she's little better than a Squib.”

  


Hermione counted to ten in her head, then had to take a deep breath and repeat the exercise twice more before she spoke, else she'd probably have hexed Ron a good one. “Ronald Weasley, you'd better keep a civil tongue in your head in regards to Luna, or you'll answer to me. She's my best friend. For years she was the rising star in the Charms division of the DOM, then after the accident they threw her out like she was yesterday's trash. They didn't even try to help her, and I'll never forgive the Ministry for that.”

  


Her wand hand was twitching. Harry leaned over and gently laid his hand over hers before he spoke in a calming tone. “Hermione, we both like Luna. Ron didn't mean anything by what he said, you know he still tends to spout off without thinking first.”

  


“Harry's right, Hermione. I'm sorry,” said Ron, looking guilty. “I do like Luna and I really didn't mean any harm. Merlin knows none of us are fans of the Ministry either. I was just worried with so many of your customers being Muggles that Luna might be a little too wacky for them. It might scare your business away.” Ron stood and reached over to squeeze her shoulder in a conciliatory gesture. “I'm going to go grab us a round, be right back.”

  


Hermione sighed, her gaze following Ron. “I probably shouldn't have jumped down his throat. It's just that I'm a little touchy when it comes to Luna. She may be a little odd, but that's part of her charm. She's also one of the kindest people I've ever known. And more importantly, she was there for me when no one else was. I'll do anything to protect her—to help her.”

  


Harry looked away, unable to meet her eyes for a moment. “I'm sorry I haven't been around much, Hermione. Not just back then, but even now. I know I haven't been a very good friend. You were _my_ Luna, you stood by me through the toughest times anyone could go through. When it all ended I was so ready to get on with my life I just sort of left you behind. I guess I assumed that you'd be fine. You were always so strong, Hermione. I just didn't realize how bad it was for you.”

  


“Oh, Harry, hush. It wasn't my intention to lay some kind of guilt trip on you.” Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment. She really hadn't been fishing for sympathy—the past was the past and she'd learned to deal with it in her own ways.

  


After the war, Harry and Ron had jumped into life with both feet and never looked back. They'd both handled the publicity with aplomb, soaking up the adoration of the public. Hermione, on the other hand, had hated the attention and the crowds had triggered her panic attacks. To make matters worse, she'd found herself at loose ends without the boys to look after. She'd been devastated to discover that she would never be able to restore her parents' memories and had had to return to England without them. On top of all that, there were her nightmares and flashbacks of the war.

  


Meanwhile the boys had both simply gone on with their lives as if the past were just a distant memory.

  


They'd given up the idea of becoming Aurors. Ron chose to work with his brother, George, who, still grieving over Fred's death, had needed the support of his little brother. Harry'd had enough of fighting Dark Wizards to last him a lifetime and had jumped at the chance to play Quidditch professionally.  

  


“I do feel like you and Ron and I have drifted apart over the years,” admitted Hermione softly. “I don't like it; it makes me sad. Please promise me we'll all try harder to stay in touch. I don't ever want to lose your friendship.”

  


Ron set their round of drinks on the table and bent down to drop a kiss on the top of Hermione's head. “That'll never happen, love. We may be inconsiderate clods most of the time, but we aren't completely stupid. You're too good a friend to lose. I reckon Harry and I know we need to try harder, and we will. I still wish you hadn't moved so far away from us though.”

  


“After helping her move four times since she came back to live in the wizarding world, first to Edinburgh, then to Aberdeen, then Inverness, then here, I wondered if she'd ever settle down. I don't think she could have found anywhere further away than she is now,” teased Harry. “She's settled here the longest of them all, so this must be home.”

  


Hermione smiled weakly and bit her lip. She didn't have the heart to tell Harry that she had given serious consideration to the Orkneys. Kirkwall had seemed to call to her somehow, a nice island town isolated from the rest of the world. But she'd settled here in the most northerly town in mainland Scotland instead. The truth was, after living here nearly three years, she still occasionally got that unsettled feeling and the urge to move on. She had to admit, such thoughts came less frequently since Luna had moved in permanently and was basically running the shop. Having Luna around just seemed to ground her—it made her feel more real. Plus, she didn't have to deal with the public and she had more time to devote to expanding her consulting business, which she hadn't even told the boys about. Yet another sign of how distant she'd become from the two of them.

  


“Well, it's home for now, since I'm fairly sure Luna's going to stick around. I don't think she'll be going anywhere now that Blaise has moved in with her.”

  


“Blaise? As in Zabini, that slick-talking Slytherin bastard?” demanded Ron.

  


“What is Luna doing back with him?” asked Harry.

  


“Really you two, don't tell me you're still harboring school yard grudges. You both know Blaise and Luna were together for years. It's true, she tried to push him away after her accident, but luckily he's proved what an intelligent wizard he is. He wasn't having any part of that and wouldn't give up on her. Thank, Merlin.” Hermione paused to take a sip of her drink. “I'll admit I had my doubts about him back in the beginning. But he adores Luna, and I've seen the proof of that. I'm glad he's here, he's my friend too, just as much as Luna. Blaise can work on his research anywhere, so he's going to stay here and help Luna run the bookshop, and I hope eventually they'll buy me out.”

  


Harry and Ron both looked shocked by her statement. “Buy you out? Hermione, please tell me you aren't planning on moving even farther away,” moaned Ron, clearly thinking back to her earlier comment about here being ‘ _home for now_.'

  


“But if you sold the shop, what would you do?” asked Harry, a worried look on his face.

  


“Remember earlier, you asked me how I could be working from home? Well, I really was. I haven't told either of you about it before, but I've been doing some consulting work on the side for years and it's actually turned into something I quite enjoy.”

  


~*~

  


Severus sat in a cafe across the street from The Bibliothecary's Corner. He'd had lunch and had been observing the Muggle bookshop for a while. He'd noted while watching the shop that while it hadn't been overrun with customers, there had been a steady flow. For a smaller sized town, she did a fair amount of business; it seemed the shop was well established and frequented by locals as well as tourists.

  


When he'd turned over the card from Lucius' acquaintance, Mr Markovski, he'd found an interesting magical addendum: 'No Apparition allowed into the main (Muggle) shop. Floo access is available during regular business hours via our magical branch, The Half-Blood Prints: (located next door). Contact the Librarian to schedule appointments regarding private consultations.'

  


At first he'd been furious at the audacity of this bloody 'Librarian' choosing _that name_ for the magical branch of her bookshop. After a bit of teasing from Lucius, however, he'd actually managed a good chuckle over it—something he would never reveal to her, of course. It was rather clever, after all.

  


He could see that the storefront next door to The Bibliothecary's Corner appeared to be vacant. Obviously this was The Half-Blood Prints. He'd also noticed on two separate occasions, someone approach the empty shop then slip quietly down a narrow alley between that building and the next, not to return until some time later. He assumed, for those who knew about it, that there was a physical entrance to the magical bookshop down there, in addition to the Floo.

  


He tried to imagine what she must be like, this Librarian person. He pictured her older than Minerva, maybe a peer of Madam Marchbanks' generation, probably a female version of Albus. He shuddered at the mental image. Well, as long as she had the experience and strength of magic to get the job done he wouldn't care if she turned out to be a cross between Sybil Trelawney and Grawp.

  


He could have made an appointment, probably should have, but he'd been curious to learn more about this mysterious Librarian before he entrusted her with his precious new collection. So many things seemed off to him. For example, why had she chosen such a remote location to establish her business? It would have been more logical to choose a larger city, London, or perhaps Edinburgh or Glasgow, if staying in Scotland were her goal. And why try to service both the Muggle and the magical communities? Surely it would be less complicated to choose one or the other. Most curious of all, why was she so cryptic about her identity? If she was as good as Markovski reported, why not put her name out there and build on that shining reputation? His past had taught him to trust his instincts, and his instincts were screaming at him to proceed with caution.

  


Glancing across the street, he noted that the lunch crowd traffic had slowed, so, finishing his tea, he decided it was time to make contact with his enigma.

  


Severus entered the shop and looked around. He'd been right—it appeared to be empty of customers just now, unless there were stragglers up on the first floor. He spied a clerk cleaning up the children's section. A tall, slender blonde whom he was sure couldn't be the Librarian, as she was much too young. She did have a very nice arse, though, he noted as she bent to pick up several books scattered on the floor. A little skinny for his tastes, but noteworthy to say the least.

  


“Professor Snape, please tell me you aren't ogling my fiancée's very fine arse.”

  


Severus spun around to see Blaise Zabini standing at the top of the stairway leading to the upper lever of the bookshop. “Mr Zabini, this is indeed a surprise. I certainly didn't expect to find you here in the back of beyond.”

  


“Nor I you, sir,” Blaise replied, descending to shake his hand in greeting. “And Blaise is fine, I haven't been your student for a good many years. And _were_ you ogling her arse, sir?”

  


“I had no idea you were engaged and of course I wasn't ogling her... err...anything. I'm looking for the proprietor, actually.”

  


“Luna and I have been together for a long time but our actual engagement is quite recent and we've kept it all fairly private so far.” Blaise turned toward the children's section and called her over. “Sweetheart, look who's here.”

  


Luna turned and a huge smile lit up her face. As she hurried over, Severus noted she appeared even more ethereal than she had years ago at Hogwarts, as delicate as if the slightest bump might shatter her. He seemed to recall hearing a rumor from Lucius about an incident in the Department of Mysteries, something about a spell gone rogue. He couldn't help but remember how the girl's mother had died in an eerily similar circumstance. It appeared that Miss Lovegood was still affected by her own incident even now, well over a year later, but at least she was still alive.

  


“Oh, Professor, it's so very good to see you, sir. What brings you to our little corner of the world?” Instead of shaking the hand he offered, she pulled him in for a hug. Severus froze for a moment, unsure how to respond to such an enthusiastic display—he was Severus Snape, for Merlin's sake—people, especially former students, did not _hug_ him. Finally he awkwardly patted her on the back before stepping away.

  


“Actually I'm looking for the Librarian,” he explained, holding out the business card. “Surely you are not she?”

  


“No, no I'm not. But she is the owner of The Bibliothecary's Corner,” explained Luna. “I've been running the shop for her recently so she's able to pursue her consulting work.”

  


“Is she in today? I don't have an appointment, but it is important that I speak to her.”

  


“Actually, she doesn't come into the office much anymore, now that Luna has me around to help,” said Blaise. “She mostly works from home.”

  


“If you would be kind enough to direct me to her home address, then,” requested Severus.

  


“I'm afraid she's taken a few days off for personal reasons,” said Luna. “And she doesn't allow clients to come to her home unless it's someone she already knows. Even then, never for the initial appointment.”

  


“My matter is of a somewhat urgent nature,” said Severus. “Would it be possible for you to contact her and ask if she'd be willing to meet with me now, even if only briefly, to discuss it?”

  


“I don't know, sir.” said Blaise hesitantly. “She has guests and she was quite specific in her instructions that she did not want to be disturbed, no matter what. I believe her exact words were, 'I don't want to see or hear from either of you unless it's the end of the world or the third coming of Voldemort.'”

  


“Blaise, wait.” Luna put her hand on his arm and for several seconds the two of them seemed to share some sort of silent communication. Finally Luna nodded and said, “Why don't you pop on over and ask her, Blaise? I think there's a good chance she might be interested in speaking with the Professor. After all, the idea of getting a peek at Professor Dumbledore's books would be quite the coup for her.”

  


Severus stared at Luna in disbelief. He had not mentioned his inheritance, and to his knowledge the news had not been released to the public as of yet. “Miss Lovegood, I have no idea what rumors you have heard, but...”

  


“Oh I've heard nothing, sir, it's just a feeling I have,” she responded with a vague smile. “Go ahead and ask her, Blaise. I'll give the professor a tour of the shop while you're gone.”

  


~*~

  


Blaise Apparated to the foot of the path that led to Hermione's house. He paused at the gate for a moment, waiting for the wards to recognize him, then proceeded to the front door. He gave a quick knock, then opened the door and stuck his head in. “Hermione, you here?”

  


Surprisingly, it wasn't Hermione who met him in the front hallway; it was Harry Potter's irritated gaze, as well as a wand pointed his way.

  


“Hello, Potter. Fancy meeting you here.”

  


“Zabini,” growled Potter. “Do you always just walk into your boss' house?”

  


“When the boss is also one of my closest friends, yes. And quite honestly, you should be happy that Hermione has friends like Luna and me to be here for her. She's lived a very solitary life for a long time, with very little support from friends.”

  


Harry had the grace to look chastised as he lowered his wand.

  


“Look, I know she was looking forward to you and Weasley visiting this weekend. I wouldn't bother her if it weren't important, but I do need to speak to her,” explained Blaise.

  


Harry tilted his head toward the back of the house. “Come on back, then. We all stayed up til dawn, tipping back a few and talking about old times, so we had a bit of lie-in this morning. We were just finishing up a late brunch.” As Blaise moved to go past him toward the kitchen, Harry grabbed his elbow. “Zabini, I am glad she has close friends. Thanks for being here for her, you and Luna both.” Blaise acknowledged Harry with a nod and proceeded toward the back of the house.

  


“Hermione, Weasley,” said Blaise in greeting as he and Harry entered the kitchen.

  


Hermione jumped to her feet. “Blaise, is Luna...”

  


“Calm down, Luna is fine, love. In fact, she informed me just this morning that she wants both of us to quit smothering her. She threatened to infiltrate our sock drawers with pifkins in retaliation if we don't.”

  


Hermione chuckled at the threat. “Right, whatever the hell pifkins are. So why are you here?”

  


“There's someone at the shop who wants to speak to you. He says it's an urgent matter.”

  


“Blaise, I'm in the middle of brunch with the boys. You know I didn't want to be disturbed this weekend.”

  


”It's Professor Snape.”

  


Hermione froze, her coffee cup half way to her lips, her eyes open wide. She blinked several times and set the cup down with care before speaking. “Professor Snape? Goodness, this must be an end-of-the-world scenario then. I can't imagine why he would ever ask to see me.”

  


Blaise snorted. “Considering who he is, it could be the Voldemort one.”

  


Ron blanched. “Don't even joke about that.”

  


Blaise grinned. “Sorry, mate.” He turned back to Hermione. “He's not asking for you personally, Hermione. He wants the Librarian. For some reason, Luna thinks it has something to do with Dumbledore's collection. The professor wouldn't confirm that when she suggested it, but he didn't deny it either. ”

  


“Dumbledore's estate has been tied up in the court system for years,” Harry said thoughtfully, “but I read a blurb in the _Prophet_ a few weeks back that sounded as if it was going to be settled soon.”

  


“Percy hinted at exactly the same thing when he came to Sunday dinner at the Burrow a couple weeks ago,” added Ron. “He's always dropping bits of gossip, the prat. Makes him feel important, I guess.”

  


“So maybe Luna is right,” said Blaise. “What do you want me to tell him, Hermione?”

  


Hermione took a sip of her coffee and thought for a few moments. “I will meet with him, but on my terms,” she said finally. “I have plans with Harry and Ron for the rest of the day and we're having dinner before they leave. Tell him to come back to the shop this evening after it closes at nine. I'll keep the Floo open in The Half-Blood Prints until half nine. If those arrangements are not convenient for him, he'll have to make an appointment like any of my other clients.”

  


“Hermione, it's Snape. Maybe you should go talk to him now. Ron and I would both understand. We can cut our visit short,” offered Harry, and Ron grudgingly mumbled his agreement.

  


“No, I've been looking forward to your visit for weeks. As much as I'd love to get a look at Dumbledore's private collection—and we don't even know for sure that's what this is about—I'm not going to jump just because Professor Snape snaps his fingers.”

  


Blaise looked doubtful.“All right. I don't think he'll like it, but I'll tell him.”

  


~*~

  


Lucius watched with amusement as Severus paced back and forth across the floor of his study, as he carried on about the nerve of this Librarian person. It had been a long time since he'd seen his old friend so animated about anything; he rather liked seeing the spark back in his eye. Severus had been on a non-stop tirade ever since he'd Apparated to Malfoy Manor after his rather hasty visit to Scotland.

  


“For Salazar's sake, do come and sit down before you wear a path in my Persian rug with your infernal pacing. I don't understand why you're so upset. Did you really expect her to simply drop everything and come running when you showed up? You didn't even bother to make an appointment with the woman.”

  


Severus sat eyeing Lucius with annoyance. Finally he sighed. “Alright, when you put it that way it does sound rather rude of me. I don't know why it vexed me so, it just did.” He crossed his arms and frowned. “Still, you'd think she would be happy to have my business.”

  


Lucius tilted his head and looked at Severus with a smirk. “Severus, are you actually pouting?”

  


The annoyed look morphed into an icy glare. “I. Do. Not. Pout.”

  


“No, of course you don't, dear boy,” agreed Lucius readily, as he reached across to refill Severus' tea.

  


“Anyone else would have jumped at the chance to work with Dumbledore's private library. Perhaps I should look elsewhere.”

  


“Well, according to what you've told me, you never actually admitted it was Dumbledore's collection, did you? Look, I told you before, she's the best. She can pick and choose whatever jobs interest her. I guarantee when you meet with her tonight and tell her what his job entails, she will be interested.”

  


Severus took sip of his tea and muttered, “She'd better be, the old crone.”

  


Lucius eyebrows shot up. Old crone? He smothered a grin. As soon as Severus had mentioned meeting Blaise Zabini in the bookshop, it had set Lucius to thinking. Draco had said that his old school chum Zabini had been paired up with the Lovegood girl for ages, and he'd also mentioned that they were close friends with that Granger girl. Such a swot she'd been—she'd beaten Draco in all their classes, it used to infuriate Lucius. After the war she'd worked at the Ministry briefly, but she'd left suddenly after having a messy public breakdown. She'd disappeared for quite some time after that, but he recalled hearing a rumor that she'd later opened a bookshop in Edinburgh. She'd been so bookish he could easily see her expanding from that into the role of the Librarian.

  


He'd been about to suggest his theory to his friend, but clearly it would be far more amusing in the long run to let him figure it out on his own.

 

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The Librarian

  
  


Chapter 2

  
  


Just before nine o'clock, Hermione closed the main Floo in the magical part of the shop and rerouted it to her office hearth. She now sat at her desk, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose, catching up on some correspondence. The reality sank in that she really didn't spend much time here at the shop anymore, devoting nearly all of her time to the consulting work.

  
  


She'd been serious when she'd told Harry and Ron that she hoped Luna and Blaise would buy the shop from her. Hell, she would just sign it over to Luna outright, but she knew her friend wouldn't accept it; she would see it as charity. Hermione had had a hard enough time just convincing Luna to move in and run the shop for her after she'd lost her magic.

  
  


Luna had been working in the Ministry's Charms and Spells Development Department when a spell she'd been developing had gone rogue. After being comatose for several weeks at St. Mungo's, she'd eventually come to. Although weak and fragile, she'd otherwise seemed fine at first, until they realized that her magic had been suppressed. The experts at St. Mungo's claimed she still had her core magic within her, but she was unable to access it. They'd never heard of another case like it and had no idea how to treat it.

  
  


Luna recovered physically, but aside from an occasional weak flash at random moments, her magic remained inaccessible. Within days of her release from the hospital, the Ministry sent her a letter that Hermione basically translated as: _Thanks for your years of stellar service, but now you're of no use to us, so good luck with the rest of your life._ Receiving that letter seemed to break even Luna's ever cheerful spirit and she got it into her head that Blaise would be better off without her. She broke up with him and tried to push him out of her life. That's when she'd accepted Hermione's offer to move to Thurso and help run The Bibliothecary's Corner.

  
  


Shortly thereafter, Hermione's regard for Blaise had multiplied tenfold. Unwilling to lose the love of his life, he'd resigned from the Ministry in a gory public display and immediately moved to Northern Scotland. His pursuit of Luna over the next few months was relentless as he persistently refused to accept her rejection over and over again. In truth, she was miserable without him and eventually he wore her down. Luna finally accepted that he was never giving up on them, and in reality, she didn't really want him to.

  
  


Hermione frowned as she pulled a thick file from her bottom drawer containing some research from years ago; she been reconsidering this lately. In the first few years after the war, Hermione had tinkered with creating amulets, hoping to find relief from her own issues.

  
  


She'd made a few with moderate success for various friends, but was never able to help with her own problems. Eventually she'd given up on the practice during the time when she'd taken a step back from the wizarding world. She'd been wondering lately, though, if this might work to help Luna, some amulet or talisman that would open up whatever was blocking her magic.

  
  


As she opened the file to review her notes, she was startled by the whoosh of the Floo activating. She'd been distracted from the real reason she was here. She noted the clock read exactly 9:35 and had to bite back a smirk. Was the professor trying to prove he was doing this meeting on his own terms, a little tit for tat so to speak? Sliding the file back into the bottom drawer, she removed her reading glasses and turned to face her guest as he stepped out of the hearth and brushed off a stray bit of soot.

  
  


He looked surprised at finding her sitting behind the desk. “Miss Granger, what a surprise. This appears to be my day for running into former students. As lovely”—his tone suggested he really meant awful—“as it is to see you, I am here to meet with the Librarian.”

  
  


Hermione stood and came around her desk, putting forth her hand to shake his. “It's so _lovely_ to see you as well, Professor,” she replied, making her 'lovely' saccharine sweet enough to irritate him. “Won't you have a seat? May I offer you a glass of water, some tea, perhaps some wine?”

  
  


“No, thank you,” he replied brusquely. “As I said, I am here to meet the Librarian, if you will please let her know I'm here. I'd prefer not to dilly-dally socializing with underlings and just get on with it.”

  
  


Hermione sighed. This did not bode well. “Daisy,” she called, and almost immediately a house elf popped in. “Would you bring a pot of tea, please—the herbal blend. _I'm going to need it_.” The last was muttered under her breath as Hermione rounded the desk and returned to her chair. Hands folded on the desk in front of her, she looked directly at Severus. “I fear that you're not going to like what comes next, sir. If you are here to meet with the Librarian, then you are here to see me.”

  
  


“You... You are the Librarian?” His eyes widened just slightly as he spoke: he didn't give much away but she could tell he was shocked. “That's impossible.”

  
  


“Sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I assure you it's not. Whom were you expecting?”

  
  


“No one specifically, but someone much older, someone much...”

  
  


“Wiser?”

  
  


“Wisdom? At your age?” he scoffed. “Highly unlikely. I did expect someone much more experienced than you could possibly be. That quality is vital to me. This particular job requires more than the ability to flail one's hand about in the air and regurgitate little known facts from textbooks.”

  
  


Hermione sighed again. This was going even worse than she'd expected it to. “Professor, I'm nearly thirty. I'm not a child, although I can understand how you might have problems viewing former students as equals in the real world. But I can assure you that I love my job and I'm very good at what I do. My reputation speaks for itself. If you require references, I can supply them. I've been contracted by some of the finest universities and museums in the Muggle world: Cambridge, Trinity, Princeton, Yale, the British Museum, the Library of Alexandria, as well as several private collectors. I can also provide references for my work in the magical community, which has been mainly private family collections...”

  
  


She paused as Daisy popped in with the tea service, carefully levitating it to the desk. The elf bobbed a little curtsy and asked, “Is there anything else you's be needing, Missy L?”

  
  


“No, this looks lovely, Daisy, thank you. You may retire for the night. I'll send the tray down to the kitchen when I'm done.”

  
  


The elf bobbed again before disappearing.

  
  


Hermione poured herself a cup, then asked, “Are you sure you won't have some?”

  
  


Severus leaned back in his chair and studied her closely. “Very well. With milk and one sugar.”

  
  


There was silence as they both stirred their tea and took a sip. Hermione could feel her own tension easing with the soothing drink and hoped Professor Snape would chill out a bit as well.

  
  


“As I was saying, Professor,  I have plenty of references should you require them. Also...”

  
  


“Miss Granger,” said Severus, holding up a hand to interrupt her. “I fear we may have got off on the wrong foot, you and I. I would like to...” He seemed to have a hard time getting the next word to come out of this mouth. With gritted teeth he continued, “... apologize, for my earlier rudeness. Do you think it possible that we might start over?”

  
  


Hermione's face lit up with a genuine smile. Maybe this meeting wouldn't be a total loss after all, if he was willing to come around. “Certainly, sir. I would like that immensely.”

  
  


Severus set his teacup down, then frowned. “Why did your house elf call you Missy L? Does she confuse you with Miss Lovegood?”

  
  


Hermione chuckled. “No, not at all. For professional purposes, I don't use my real name in the wizarding world, except with those who already know me. I really do simply go by the Librarian. After a time, with familiarity, it usually gets shortened to L. Daisy has picked up on that.”

  
  


“I'd wondered why there was no name on the business card I was given. It puzzled me. It was one of the many questions I had about you.”

  
  


“One of the many? Well, if you do become my client, perhaps you will find the answers to those other many questions,” she said with a teasing tone. “As for using my own name, I do in the Muggle world. There Hermione Granger is nobody special, just someone who's very good at restoring and organizing books.”

  
  


“I wondered how you ended up doing business in both worlds.”

  
  


“To be honest, I never actually planned to do my work in the wizarding world at all. I have more than enough Muggle jobs to keep me busy, but magical books do tend to provide an intriguing challenge. I was approached by a wizard when I was working at the Library of Alexandria—he was happy to learn I was a witch. I believe he'd secretly planned to hire me, then Obliviate me, but luckily for me that wasn't necessary.”

  
  


She paused, seeming to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment. “At any rate, for the work I did for him, I only used my title—the Librarian—and it's been that way ever since.”

  
  


“Being a hero of the war wasn't enough for you?” Snape asked.

  
  


Hermione sighed. “I'd much rather be known for my professional reputation, not as Harry Potter's best friend, or the brains of the Golden Trio, or whatever other label they try to put on me. That was a different life, and it's over. This is my life now.”

  
  


Severus looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead simply grimaced and changed the subject. “Let us discuss the project I have in mind. It's going to be a massive undertaking. If you don't have the time to devote to it, please be honest with me up front.”

  
  


Hermione's eyes sparked with excitement. “Was Luna right? Is it Dumbledore's library?”

  
  


The corner of his lip turned up with a satisfied smirk. “Yes, it is. How on earth did she know that? It isn't common knowledge how the estate was settled.”

  
  


“It's hard to say with Luna. It could be as simple as her having heard a rumor from an old co-worker, or something much more complicated. Since she lost the ability to access her magic...” At Severus' blank look, Hermione took a few minutes to explain the bare minimum of her friend's situation. “...Anyway, she has these random flashes of magic and sometimes she just seems to know things. Whether it's coincidence or precognition, I've no idea.”

  
  


“I also noticed an odd sort of communion between Miss Lovegood and Mr Zabini earlier. Neither spoke and yet they seemed to be communicating.”

  
  


Hermione laughed. “I've seen them do that, too. I'm honestly not sure if that's something extrasensory going on, though, or just the fact that they've been together for so long. I remember my mum and dad used to do the exact same thing.” A pained look crossed her face and Hermione looked away. This time she was the one who changed the subject. “So what do you need me for in regards to Dumbledore's collection?”

  
  


“I'm overwhelmed by it,” he admitted, a little reluctantly she thought. “I am busy with my potions research and can't devote the time to organizing the collection that it deserves. I don't want it just sitting in crates for months on end. I want it sorted, and I want it done properly.” He sighed. “I simply hadn't realized how much one wizard could accumulate over the course of a lifetime. That's what I meant by it being a massive undertaking. I imagine it could take months to put it all to rights.”

  
  


Hermione smiled. “It would be months well spent, I'm sure.”

  
  


“A friend reminded me too that some of the collection may require special skills and possible restoration. And there's a rather good sized section of books on Dark Magic that not just anyone should handle. Your name... The Librarian that is... was recommended to me by this friend. I hope you'll tell me you're interested in the job.”

  
  


Hermione grinned. “Oh, come now, Professor. It doesn't take a clairvoyant to know that any bibliophile would be chomping at the bit to get her hands on that collection. I'm no exception, of course I'm interested.” She swiveled in her chair to pull some paperwork out a file cabinet. “I am curious, though, who was it that recommended me?”

  
  


“Lucius Malfoy. He gave me your card.”

  
  


Hermione froze and turned to look over her shoulder at Severus with a puzzled expression. “Mr Malfoy? But...I've never done any work for him. Not that I wouldn't love the chance to get a look at the Malfoy library. It's legendary.”

  
  


“He said you came very highly recommended by an acquaintance of his, a Bulgarian. I believe the name was Markovski. He said the man had raved about your work and gave Lucius your card, and he passed it on to me.”

  
  


“Ahh... yes, okay. That makes sense then. Leo did have quite an eclectic collection inherited from his great-grandfather. I'll have to thank him for passing my card along to Mr Malfoy.”

  
  


“If it's any enticement, I'm quite sure that if you take the job, I could arrange for you to have a chance to explore the Malfoy library,” said Severus. “Anytime you like, really.” The smirk on his face said he knew the offer was akin to waving a Honeyduke's lolly in front of a sugar-starved toddler.

  
  


“Are you offering me the job then, Professor?” she asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

  
  


“I believe I am, Miss Granger,” he replied smoothly.

  
  


“Well then, as we'll be working quite closely, likely for the next several months, perhaps you should call me Hermione, unless you prefer L. I answer to either,” she said offering him her hand to shake.

  
  


He took her hand. “Hermione it is then. And since it's been a good many years since I've been anyone's professor, much less yours, you should probably call me Severus. Please.”

  
  


“Very well, Severus,” she said squeezing his hand in hers. “Let me just get you a copy of my contract to look over and we can discuss specific details later.”

  
  


If either of them noticed that their hands remained clasped a little longer than necessary, or that a certain spark seemed to sizzle back and forth between them, neither acknowledged it.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Severus was just finishing breakfast when Lucius wandered in and helped himself to some coffee.

  
  


“You do know, I can have tea brought out for you,” offered Severus, knowing that was Lucius' morning preference. He himself preferred a good dark roast to start the day.

  
  


Lucius waved him off, adding extra cream and sugar to his cup. “No. Thanks to you and Draco, you two heathens have forced me to adapt.” Sitting at the table he eyed the papers in front of Severus  “So, how did things go with your meeting in Scotland with the old crone? Is that some sort of contract you have there?”

  
  


“Fine and yes. And she's not an old crone after all. You'll never guess who the Librarian really is.”

  
  


Taking a sip, Lucius pulled the contract over and began to skim through it. He usually looked these things over for his friend. “If I'll never guess, why don't you just tell me?” he said with a slight smirk.

  
  


Severus' eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Who would _your_ first guess be?”

  
  


“Oh, I don't know,” Lucius replied, seemingly disinterested. “Off the top of my head, I'd have to say... hmm... maybe... Hermione Granger?”

  
  


Severus smacked the table, making the cutlery and dishes jump. “Damn it, Lucius! If you knew, why didn't you tell me?”

  
  


“I didn't actually _know,_ but I did suspect as much. I was going to share my theory with you yesterday before your meeting. But you were having so much fun ranting on about the old crone, I decided to leave you to your own devices.”

  
  


Severus gave him a disgusted look. After a moment of tapping his finger on the table in annoyance as Lucius continued to peruse the contract, Severus' curiosity finally got the better of him. “Out with it then. How did you figure it out?”

  
  


Lucius put down the contract and took a sip of his coffee. “Several things, really. First, you mentioned seeing Zabini there. Draco told me months ago that Blaise had quit his job at the Ministry to pursue his long time amour, the Lovegood girl. He also said that the girl had left London to take a job managing her good friend's bookshop in Northern Scotland. I happen to know that Lovegood's closest friend is Granger.”

  
  


“How could you possibly know that?” Severus was skeptical.

  
  


“After Lovegood's accident in the Department of Mysteries, she was in St. Mungo's for many weeks, on the spell damage ward. Granger was there almost every day. I saw her there myself: in the lifts, the hallways, the waiting rooms, the cafeteria. I was often there at the same times, visiting Cissy, you see.”

  
  


Severus recalled with a pang of sadness the last weeks of Narcissa's life, spent sequestered in St Mungo's. She'd been infected by a latent spell cast on her years before by her own sister at the battle of Hogwarts, when Bella realized that Narcissa had lied about Potter being dead.

  
  


“Granger even sought me out to offer her condolences... after...” Lucius voice faded.

  
  


Severus clasped his friend's shoulder briefly. It had been a difficult time for them all.

  
  


Lucius cleared his throat. “I also remembered that Leonid Markovski told me that he'd found the Librarian through his nephew, Viktor Krum, who is also known to be a friend of Granger's. And I'd heard she'd owned a bookshop several years back in Edinburgh. It made sense that someone in the book business might also develop skills in restoration and the like. Given all of that, I suspected she might be the Librarian.”

  
  


“Well, I wish you'd shared some of your insights with me. I went in there expecting someone else entirely and was quite rude to her at first. I managed to pull my arse out of the fire and turn things around, though. Luckily, she seemed quite excited at the chance to work with Dumbledore's collection.”

  
  


Severus waved his hand at the papers Lucius had gone back to reviewing. “What do you think of all that? It seems fairly standard to me.”

  
  


“Yes it does, for the most part. Her fees are on the high side, not that she's not worth it, but perhaps we should try to negotiate some there,” advised Lucius.

  
  


“She did mention that she's often willing to take a portion of her fees in barter. If there are books that she's particularly interested in and the client is willing to part with them, she reduces her fees accordingly. Being the bibliophile that she is, I'm sure we'll be able to work something out on that end.”

  
  


Lucius nodded. “Yes, she is quite the clever girl, isn't she? I'm sure she's ended up acquiring books she never could have afforded to purchase outright.” He turned to the last page of the contract. “Did you notice this clause?”

  
  


“No,” replied Severus. “I hadn't got that far. What is it?”

  
  


“It states that for long term projects—which this will obviously be—the client will provide her accommodations. She would prefer something on-site but if that isn't a workable option, she would require something at least near-by.”

  
  


“It does make sense, I suppose,” agreed Severus. “She won't want to be Apparating back and forth to Thurso on a daily basis. And if she's anything like she was as a student, she gets so involved with her projects she'll probably want to work at odd hours.”

  
  


“Snip,” Lucius called. “A quill and some ink, please.”

  
  


“What are you doing?” asked Severus, as the elf popped back with the requested items.

  
  


“I know how much you value your solitude, Severus. You must be dismayed at the very thought of that woman moving in, taking over your home. It will be disruptive enough that she'll be working on the collection here, but to have her constantly underfoot, asking you all sorts of annoying questions, interrupting your research time, taking meals with you, sleeping just down the hall from you—well, it's really just too much to ask, isn't it? I'm going to fix this for you, my friend,” Lucius went on generously, as he dipped the quill in the ink. “I'll just put in the contract that she will be lodged at the manor. I'll provide her a suite of rooms and she can easily Floo or Apparate back and forth as she wishes. She's even welcome to take her meals with Draco and me. See, problem solved.”

  
  


Lucius was about to put quill to parchment when Severus reached over and snatched the contract away. “I'm quite sure that isn't necessary,” he said, smoothing out the papers. “While the dower house is no Malfoy Manor, there is certainly plenty of room here to accommodate the two of us easily.”

  
  


“Well... if you're sure...” Lucius smirked.

  
  


Severus' eyes narrowed as he glared at his friend. “You arse. You did that just to aggravate me.” He  grabbed the quill from Lucius' hand and signed the contract as it was.

  
  


“Perhaps,” replied Lucius with a grin. “Or perhaps to give you a shove in the right direction. I think the truth of the matter is, you actually like Miss Granger and won't be appalled at all to have her staying here.”

  
  


Severus merely grunted in response. But he couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from tipping up in a half smile as he capped the ink bottle and called his owl to send the contract off to Hermione's home in Thurso.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Hermione wasn't scheduled to start Severus' project for two weeks. She had a few small restoration jobs to finish first, and a consulting job for a Muggle museum to assess a recently acquired ancient tome—which, unfortunately for the museum, was a forgery. Somehow she found herself stopping in at the dower house, to check on things.

  
  


She'd realized that Severus was going to need more space than his current library had available, so she offered to come back with some options for him to consider. He'd explained that the house actually belonged to Lucius, so they would need his approval on plans for permanent changes. They'd set up a meeting with him today to review her suggestions. Hermione arrived brimming with ideas, along with an armful of folders containing a myriad of pictures and diagrams.  

  
  


“I had so many ideas it was hard to contain myself,” she said with a laugh. “I have managed, though, to reduce them all to a few options. Mr Malfoy, I'm so happy you could come as we'll need your input on the final decision.”

  
  


“Now, Hermione, it's Lucius, as I've already told you several times,” chided Lucius.

  
  


She blushed. Although she'd easily adjusted to calling the professor by his given name, she was having a much harder time with Lucius. Although she would never admit to it openly, at first she'd been quite intimidated and perhaps even a little frightened by the man she recalled from the war. Now, though, she'd begun to see him in a different light. Through her friendship with Blaise, she'd often come into contact with Draco and could imagine Lucius through his son's eyes. And then there was the devoted and then grieving husband she'd witnessed at St. Mungo's. She'd also seen his interactions with Severus, as a true and caring friend. She'd actually seen them tease and joke with each other, something she never would have expected from the oh-so-proper pureblood and the straight-laced professor.

  
  


“I'm sorry, Lucius, I'll get it right eventually,” she said. “Now, shall we get started?”

  
  


“Definitely,” murmured Lucius.

  
  


“Yes, I'm anxious to hear your ideas, Hermione,” agreed Severus.

  
  


“Well, the fastest, easiest option would be to enlarge your present library with magic. We could expand the walls and use a duplicating charm on the bookshelves and furniture. It could probably be completed in a few days and we could be ready to begin sorting the collection. Unfortunately, in my opinion, this plan is actually the least desirable in the long run.”

  
  


“Why is that?” asked Severus, rubbing his chin and frowning.

  
  


“I concur with Hermione,” said Lucius. “Although I would like to hear your reasoning, my dear.”

  
  


“Some magical buildings such as Hogwarts, the Ministry, perhaps even places like Malfoy Manor have, over time, developed a certain sentience that enables them to take such magic and incorporate it into the actual structure of the building.”

  
  


She looked to Lucius for confirmation and saw that he was nodding in agreement. Encouraged, she continued. “However, here in the dower house, that would likely not be the case. Therefore anything we created would have to stand strictly on the strength of the magic itself. Over time, it's possible that magic could weaken and fade, or perhaps be hit by an unintentional counter spell. It could even be eroded by some of the stronger magic of Dumbledore's books or yours, Severus. What would start out as a lovely library could one day suddenly revert to the structure we currently have and... POOF!” Hermione waved her arms around in illustration. “You'd be left with a mess, not to mention the potential damage to your highly valuable collection. Although it will take longer, I think it would be much wiser to do it through permanent structural changes to the house. That's why Severus requested your presence today, Lucius—as the owner, we need your approval of any changes.”

  
  


Lucius gave Severus an irritated look. “I think that since you're the one who lives here, you should make whatever changes you want.”

  
  


“But the house is not mine, it's yours. I just lease it. Any changes need your approval,” Severus pointed out.

  
  


“Blast it all, Severus, this is your home and has been for damn near a decade. I've offered more than once to sell you the bloody house. It sits at the very edge of the Malfoy estates, it would be easy enough to separate the house and property and draw up a deed. All it would take is your consent and it would be done,” Lucius snapped his fingers. “As easy as that.”

  
  


Severus pursed his lips and made no response save an icy stare. He checked his watch, coolly stated that he had a potion to check and would return in an hour. He then turned on his heel and stalked off to his lab, his robes billowing—some things never changed.

  
  


“Damned stubborn Slytherin,” Lucius swore under his breath. Hearing a snort from Hermione, he turned.

  
  


She was obviously trying to keep from laughing out loud. “It takes one to know one,” she commented with a grin.

  
  


Lucius smiled back. “I suppose it does. Come, my dear. While we await Mr Grumpy's return from the potions lab, let us adjourn to the solarium and have Snip bring us tea.”

  
  


They enjoyed tea and small talk for a bit, then Hermione finally asked what she'd been wondering. “Lucius, why was Severus so upset when you mentioned selling him the dower house?”

  
  


Lucius sighed. “I'm not certain, but I do have some theories. Back when he first came here, he truly didn't have the resources. He'd lost everything when the house at Spinner's End was destroyed, and he'd never amassed a huge savings from his years of teaching. I would have offered to sign this place over to him—it hadn't been used by the Malfoy family for years and had sat vacant, thus it had no sentimental value to me—but I knew he'd have seen that as charity and never would have accepted.”

  
  


Hermione nodded. That fit with what she was beginning to know of Severus' character.

  
  


“Over the years, though, his circumstances have changed. He's done very well with his potions research; he has numerous patents to his name. He could buy it easily now, and yet he still refuses every time I bring it up. Perhaps after years of being bound to Hogwarts through Dumbledore, he doesn't want to be tied down to any one place... or person. If he doesn't own the house, theoretically he could leave at any time. He has no roots here.” Lucius’ face wore a sad expression as he stared through the windows at the small flower garden, lost in thought.

  
  


After a moment, Hermione stood and offered him her hand. “Come. Walk with me outside. I'm sure it can't compare to Malfoy Manor's formal gardens, but the flowers look lovely and it's a beautiful day to enjoy some fresh air.”

  
  


After they had walked a bit, Hermione spoke. “I'm not sure that I agree with your theory, Lucius, about Severus not wanting to be tied to this place, or through it to you. It's possibly quite the opposite, in fact. You see, I've been giving it some thought since it seems that I have a similar problem.”

  
  


“Really? How so?” he asked. They went up two steps to sit on a bench in a small gazebo.

  
  


“I'm very close friends with Luna Lovegood. Do you know anything of her situation?”

  
  


“I've heard rumors that she's lost her magic.”

  
  


“Not lost exactly, but it is inaccessible. Because of this I was determined that she come manage my bookshop in Thurso for me. It wasn't just so I could devote my time to my consulting work either, although I'll admit I do like that much better than dealing every day with the public. I was truly frightened for her to remain among the magical community when she no longer has the ability to protect herself. The war is long over, but there are still those in the wizarding world who would do us harm, especially those of us who were closest to Harry.”

  
  


“While that may be true, surely there are bad people in the Muggle world as well,” replied Lucius.

  
  


“Yes, I'm sure you're right.” She smiled nervously. “I never claimed that my fears were rational, far from it at times, but she's my best friend and I nearly lost her. That in itself terrified me. I believed that somehow she would be safer working with me and dealing with Muggles. Now, since Blaise has come, he handles most of the business from The Half-Blood Prints and she manages The Bibliothecary's Corner. They make a great pair. But every time I mention selling the shop to them, she refuses.

  
  


“Like you, in the beginning, I would have signed the damned thing over to her outright. But she would have considered it charity. Now that she and Blaise have become engaged, I know they have the funds available and he would do anything to make her happy. Yet she still refuses. She says she likes working with me, even though I'm rarely ever at the shop anymore.”

  
  


Lucius half turned in his seat to study her. “So what do you think it is, then? Why won't she buy the shop? Why doesn't Severus buy this house?”

  
  


“I'm just thinking out loud, really, and it may not be the same situation for you and Severus, but I think Luna doesn't want things to change. It's not because she doesn't want to put down roots, but because she fears if she owns the bookshop outright then our ties will be broken. I suspect she fears that if I'm not officially part of it anymore, then I won't be connected to her either.”

  
  


“I'm not sure I understand,” said Lucius, his brow furrowed.

  
  


“It sounds odd, I know. There's probably a lot of background between us that you don't know. She and I weren't close friends while at Hogwarts. However, neither one of us were ever the type to make friends easily. I'm not sure that Luna had any close friends back then, she seemed to hover at the fringes. For me, it was really only ever Harry and Ron, I never had any other close friendships. Back then, I thought that could never change, but it did. After the war, as time went on, the three of us seemed to drift farther and farther apart, our friendship seemed to fade away.”

  
  


Lucius nodded. “Well that's not at all unusual. Childhood friends often drift apart.”

  
  


“It wasn't until I started working at the Ministry that Luna and I became close. I know you don't really know her, but most people find her more than a little odd. They don't bother to look any further than the surface, but there's so much more to her than the eccentric facade she presents to the general public.”

  
  


Lucius nodded. “She sounds rather like Severus in that respect, as if they are masking their true nature. Only rather than being odd, he projects this aura of gruffness and negativity to keep people at bay. In reality that is not his true nature at all.”

  
  


“I... hadn't thought of it like that,” said Hermione hesitantly. “He doesn't seem like that to me now, at least not since our first meeting.” She smiled to herself .

  
  


Lucius couldn't help but wonder if the attraction he'd suspected on Severus' part might be reciprocated. He needed to keep her talking. “You were saying... about Miss Lovegood?”

  
  


“Well, she was there for me through some very tough times...” Hermione stopped, unsure of how much to reveal to someone she didn't know that well. “Even after I left my job at the Ministry—after I left the wizarding world entirely—she still stood by me, even when others didn't. Later, of course I was there for her after her accident. Now we're the closest of friends, like sisters even. But I think she remembers that I was also just that close to Harry and Ron at one time and how, as our interests changed, those friendships faded and we drifted apart. I think she believes that might happen to us, even now, so she's clinging to the thing that she thinks connects us: the bookshop.”

  
  


“As theories go, that's not half bad, my dear,” said Lucius.

  
  


“Or maybe it's just a bunch of psycho-babble,” she said with a shrug.

  
  


Lucius' gave her a puzzled look, and Hermione laughed. “That's a Muggle term. Basically it means I'm psychoanalyzing my relationship with Luna, probably without any particular accuracy or relevance.” When he still looked confused she added, “Psychologists are Muggle counselors who help people figure out what their thoughts, feelings and emotions mean and why they do the things they do. Head doctors.”

  
  


“Well, well. You two seem to be having a good time,” Severus broke in, startling Hermione.

  
  


“Oh, Severus, I didn't hear you come up. Lucius and I were just passing time, enjoying your garden while we waited for you. Did your potion turn out all right?”

  
  


He looked closely from one to the other, then finally, as if satisfied with whatever he'd seen, he answered, “Yes, I had to add a few new ingredients and stir it for seventeen minutes. Then I had to monitor it for a while. It's back in stasis now.”

  
  


“Wonderful,” said Hermione. She stood and tucked her hand into his elbow as she steered him back toward the house. “Then let's all go make some decisions about your new and improved library.”

  
  


Hermione had narrowed the choices down to three. Her presentation was complete with color coded file folders containing numerous diagrams and a myriad of photos to illustrate how it all would look in the end. When Hermione turned her back to retrieve something out of her seemingly bottomless bag, Severus mumbled to Lucius that now he knew what Potter and Weasley must have felt like back at Hogwarts.

  
  


The first choice was quickly rejected by both men. Hermione didn't seem to mind, as it involved converting the room across the hallway into a second library, which was her least favorite plan of the three anyway. They went back and forth for quite a while on the merits of the other two plans, and in the end they decided  to combine them both. They would expand the library to the one side, taking out part of the wall to a small sitting room that Severus had never used anyway. That would become a study/office area for him where most of his Potions books would reside. Then in the current library, they would open the center of the ceiling to the room above, adding railings all around with access from the ground floor via a circular stairway off to one side. It would eliminate one of the dower house's bedrooms, but that still left six others which Severus said were five more than he would ever need.

  
  


The decision finally made, Hermione declined to stay for dinner as she already had plans. Before she left though, she made them promise to find someone with experience to do the work and to not-not-not try to do it themselves. To ensure this, she told them several do it yourself horror stories regarding the dangers of removing load-bearing walls or using improper support beams for the ceiling.

  
  


Just before she left, Hermione announced that she'd be moving in by the middle of the following week.

  
  


TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Librarian

  
  


Chapter 3

  
  


Luna knocked on Hermione's door, then poked her head in. “Hermione?”

  
  


“I'm in the kitchen, Luna. Come on back,” shouted Hermione.

  
  


Luna wandered back, pausing in the doorway. She leaned against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her friend stir a slow cooker full of stew. Hermione's kitchen was equipped with Muggle appliances and she always claimed—no offense to Molly Weasley—that food tasted better when cooked without magic, the Muggle way. Luna liked eating at Hermione's, so there might be something to that theory.

  
  


“Hey, L.”

  
  


Hermione looked up and smiled, happy to see her friend. Tonight was their monthly 'girls night'. Sometimes they went out and did something, but sometimes—like tonight—one of them would cook and they would stay in and watch the telly or a DVD. “Hey to you too, double L. You're just in time, stew's almost done.”

  
  


“Sounds good and smells great! I'm hungry,” replied Luna. Without being asked, she walked over to get the bowls, spoons, napkins and place mats from the cupboard and proceeded to set the table.

  
  


Hermione glanced over and noticed her friend's brow was furrowed. “What's wrong?”

  
  


“Oh,” sighed Luna. “Nothing important, really. It's just, that made me think. You know, this little game of ours, where I call you L and you call me double L. When I marry Blaise, I won't be double L anymore, will I?” She sounded a little sad at the prospect.

  
  


“Oh, sweetie, you'll still be you, no matter what. Underneath it all you'll always be the Luna Lovegood I know and love. Besides, I'll get to call you Elzee. I rather like the sound of that.”

  
  


Luna considered it. “It is cute, but it's just not the same.”

  
  


“Well, you could keep your maiden name if you really want to. Many professional women in the Muggle world opt to do that, or you could hyphenate it. Lovegood-Zabini has a certain ring to it, don't you think?”

  
  


Luna perked up momentarily, but then deflated. “That wouldn't work, though. If I don't take his name, it might seem like a rejection of family traditions. I think that would hurt Blaise's feelings and I would never ever do that.”

  
  


“Of course you wouldn't.” Hermione thought for a minute.“What if you kept Lovegood strictly for professional purposes, but in your personal life you legally take Zabini?  My own mum did it that way. She was Lynn Granger at home and for official stuff like legal documents, but at the dental practice she was Dr. O'Neal. It saved a lot of confusion too, not having two Dr. Grangers in the office.”

  
  


Luna's smile brightened the room. “Hermione, that's absolutely brilliant. Muggles do come up with the best ideas sometimes. I can't understand why some wizards are so negative about them, I like Muggles just fine. In fact I'm practically living as one now and I don't mind it at all.”

  
  


Hermione set down a tray full of the warm, crusty rolls she'd made to go with the stew. She dropped into the chair and looked closely at Luna. “I know you must miss it though: your magic.”

  
  


“Of course, I'd be lying if said I didn't miss it at all. But do I need it? Is it something I can't live without? Is it the end of the world without it? Honestly, no. I could live the rest of my life and be happy just as I am. I have Blaise, and you, and the bookshop to keep me busy. It does irritate me to no end that I can't sense the Nargles anymore though. I know they're still around, the annoying little buggers. Are you sure you can't feel them at all, Hermione?”

  
  


“I'm afraid not, Luna.” said Hermione, then leaned over to give her friend a hug. “You are the most amazing woman I know, and the very best friend in the world. You do know that I love you, right?”

  
  


“I love you too, Hermione, but I'm still worried about those darned Nargles.”

  
  


Hermione laughed as she served up the stew. She thought again about her idea of making an amulet to counteract whatever was suppressing Luna's magic, but she didn't want to get her friend's hopes up. She'd have to do some more research on the subject before she brought it up. Perhaps she'd find something among Dumbledore's books that might help.

  
  


Hermione's head snapped up when she realized that Luna had said something. “Sorry, I was wool gathering. What did you say?”

  
  


“I said, so tell me how things went today with Professor Snape,” said Luna, getting a far-off dreamy look on her face.

  
  


Hermione wrinkled her nose, confused at Luna's expression. “Ahh... fine. Everything was fine. They made a decision on the plans to enlarge the library. He and Lucius will set that up, hopefully with a reputable magical builder. I told him I'm going to finish the last of my current consulting jobs and will move into the dower house sometime midweek.”

  
  


“That's nice, but not at all what I meant.” Luna's brows waggled up and down suggestively. “I don't want to know about the job, tell me how _things_ went.”

  
  


For some reason, Hermione found herself blushing at Luna's tone. “I'm not sure what you mean, Luna. What _things_?”

  
  


“You know, _things._ ” At her friend's blank look, Luna gave an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Hermione, just admit it. You like Professor Snape.”

  
  


“Well, I certainly don't dislike him, unlike a lot of people we know. And he is my client, after all. I suppose you're right, I do like him.”

  
  


Luna sighed and rolled her eyes. “For an intelligent witch, you are so dense at times.”

  
  


“Lunaaa,” Hermione whined. She hated it when she had no idea what her friend was talking about—and with Luna this happened a lot. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  
  


“I mean,” said Luna in her most reasonable voice, “that you like him. Not because he's your client, not because he was our teacher, not because he was on our side all along, but because you _like_ like him.”

  
  


Hermione's mouth dropped open and she knew she was staring at Luna with that deer-in-the-headlights gaze that Muggles must get just before they were flattened by a speeding freight train or a runaway lorry.

  
  


Luna reached over to pat her hand solicitously. “Oh, good Godric. Sweetie, let me explain to you how it works: when little witches and wizards grow up, one day their parents take them aside to teach them all about the snorkacks and the humdingers...”

  
  


Hermione slumped forward quietly and repeatedly banged her head on the table.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Severus tried to keep himself occupied with busy work. He didn't want to have time to think about the fact that Hermione was moving in soon. Lucius' comment about giving him a shove in the right direction, and suggesting that he might actually like the idea of Hermione staying there, kept ringing in his head. He would never admit it, but he was nervous.

  
  


During his entire adult life, he'd never lived with someone else. Oh, he'd lived among others at Hogwarts, but it wasn't the same. He really did value his solitude, as Lucius had said. And although he had become rather accustomed to Lucius randomly popping in to annoy him, this would be something quite different. He wondered what it would be like to have Hermione here all the time.

  
  


Perhaps he should have let Lucius put in that clause about housing her at the manor. And yet the very idea set him on edge: thoughts of Hermione spending time with Lucius, taking meals with him, admiring his library, walking through his gardens with him, spending time in the evenings discussing the latest book they'd read. Unbidden, Severus' wand hand began to twitch just thinking about it. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he what was feeling was...

  
  


Severus froze, then dropped like a rock onto the stool next to his work table. Dear Merlin, he wasn't... _jealous?_ Was he?  

  
  


Of course not, the voice of reason jumped forth. That wasn't possible. She was his former student, for Slytherin's sake, he could still picture the bushy-haired first year—her hand waving about, madly vying for his attention. And now she was practically his employee, how wrong would that be? Above all else, she was Hermione-Fucking-Granger.

  
  


Before he could stop it, the voice of reason promptly did a complete one-eighty. So what? She said it herself, she's an adult. She's unattached. She's intelligent, loyal, independent and she had so much more depth than any of the women he'd dated since the war had ended.

  
  


Oh, dear gods above, Lucius was right!

  
  


~*~

  
  


In spite of being sucker-punched by Luna's theory, Hermione managed to behave in what she hoped was a professional manner with Severus when she arrived at the dower house. It helped that their meeting was brief as he was in a hurry to get to his lab. It seemed he had a project that just couldn't wait.

  
  


Hermione was shown to her room by the house-elf, who wanted to unpack her things for her. After some delicate negotiations, she was finally able to convince him that she'd rather do it herself. Once everything was settled to her liking, she took a few minutes to examine the space she would call home for the next several months.

  
  


She'd stayed in a few places where her accommodations were little more than a narrow cot and spindly wooden chair. This was nothing so meager as that. Severus had provided her with a large room, big enough for a queen-size bed, night table, and dresser. But that wasn't all; in a corner was a small personal writing desk and chair with a couple shelves above it for her books. And the best thing—a comfy chair sat by a full window that overlooked a side garden, a perfect spot for reading in her off time. There was even an en suite bath with large tub and shower. Hermione made a mental note to thank Severus later for the lovely room.

  
  


Now that her things were unpacked, she felt an immediate desire to get started on the job. Heading downstairs, Hermione poked her head into the library to discover that total chaos reigned therein: Severus' books had been moved out, bookcases and tables were piled to one side and covered by drop cloths, support columns were being installed around the room in preparation for when the center of the ceiling was opened to the room above. Looking around, she spotted a wizard whom she assumed was the foreman and she waved to get his attention. “Hello... hello... Excuse me!”

  
  


One of the crew of house-elves tapped him on the knee and pointed her way. When the man turned toward her, Hermione guessed he was several years younger than herself. When he saw her, his eyes went wide and a strange smile crossed his face. Which was odd, as she was fairly certain she didn't know him; maybe he'd been in one of the younger years when she was at Hogwarts.

  
  


“Well, hello, beautiful,” he said when he saw her. There was a crash across the room and dust flew everywhere. He hurried over to her. “Work zone here, darlin'. Pretty ladies not allowed. Come with me.” Before she could explain why she was there, he grabbed her elbow with one hand and put his other hand intimately at the small of her back and he steered her out of the room.

  
  


The man's hand was now stroking up and down her back in a not-so-subtle caress as he maneuvered her into the hallway. He still hadn't let go of her, and she didn't like the way his eyes seemed to slide down and back up her body, either. Apparently he thought of himself as some sort of Lothario.

  
  


“Sorry, darlin'. I thought we could talk a bit easier out here. Less noise and so much better to get to know each other, don'tcha know. I'm the boss of this project,” he added, as if trying to impress her. “Now, what can I do fer a sweet lil' thing like you?” He moved even closer, invading her personal space.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she side-stepped out of his reach. She'd stood up to things far more disturbing than this man. Squaring her shoulders she looked him directly in the eye, and if he'd bothered to check he would have noticed that her wand was at the ready in her hand. “I am neither your _darlin'_ nor your _sweet lil' thing._ What I am, sir, is the Librarian and this is _my_ project, not yours. I can assure you that I intend to see that it is done correctly. Therefore, what you can do for me is to provide an itemized list of materials and a written estimate of cost, as well as a date when you expect this project to be complete. Is that understood, Mr --? Wait...”  Suddenly he seemed suspiciously familiar, only younger. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  
  


“Er... no, I don't think so. And it's Fletcher, ma'am. MacDougal Fletcher, but my friends call me Doogie.” He was suddenly more serious and surprisingly polite.

  
  


Hermione grimaced. “Any relation to a Mundungus Fletcher, by any chance?

  
  


“Distant cousin, ma'am.” He was all slick politeness now.

  
  


“Well, we can't control who we're related to, so I won't hold that against you—for now. My office is going to be through there—” she pointed to the door across the hall. “I'll expect that list by the end of the day. And just so you know, Mr Fletcher, I will be double checking that the materials that you have billed Mr Snape for are actually the ones that you are installing. And they'd all better be top of the line and not some cheap knock-offs. Trust me, I _will_ know the difference. Am I still being understood, Mr Fletcher?”

  
  


“Is there a problem here?” Severus seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  
  


Hermione smiled tightly. “Not at all, Severus. I was just introducing myself to Mr Fletcher here. I think everything is under control now. I'd like to talk to you in my office when you have a moment, please.”

  
  


“Certainly, I'll be there shortly,” he said, and Hermione stepped across the hallway and quietly shut the door behind her.

  
  


Once she was out of sight, Doogie's bravado seemed to suddenly bounce back in full force. “Well, ain't she just Miss Hoity-toity. Sure thinks high of herself, that one does. I'll bet she thinks...”  

  
  


With a loud thunk, Doogie found himself slammed none-too-gently up against the wall, his toes barely touching the floor, both of Severus' hands clenched in his shirtfront. “Before you say one more word, you should know that I was watching that entire exchange from right over there,” Severus tipped his head toward the open doorway to the stairs that led down to his basement lab. He gave Doogie another jerk making his head bang against the wall again with a hard thud. “How dare you treat a lady in my home so rudely? You have this job for three reasons, none of which are because I like you: a favor to a very close friend, the distant acquaintance I have with your cousin, and the fact that Mr Malfoy heard you are capable of doing decent work when you put your mind to it.

  
  


“Do you want to keep this job, or do you want to go in there, pack up your crew and get out?”

  
  


Doogie sputtered for a second, then subsided. “Sorry, Mr Snape, I do want to keep the job. I don't know what I was thinking. It'll never happen again, I swear, sir, never.”

  
  


“One chance. That's all, I mean it. One. And you _will_ apologize to the lady. ”

  
  


“I will. I promise, sir,” the young man replied, all meek and mild now.

  
  


“Very well, get back to work. If word gets back to your aunt of your behavior here today, you needn't expect her to help you get any more jobs.”

  
  


Severus couldn't help but issue one last warning. “And Fletcher, if I ever see your fucking hands touching my Librarian again, I won't be responsible for the outcome.”

  
  


Without waiting for a response, he stalked across the hall to Hermione's 'office.' He took a moment to compose himself before pushing the door open. The room was filled with the boxes and crates from Dumbledore's collection as well as bookshelves and books of his own that had been moved for the construction. Hermione was nowhere in sight.

  
  


“Hermione?” He heard a little noise from behind the door, and, stepping into the room, he swung it shut to find her perched there on the edge of a wooden crate, her elbows propped on her knees and face buried in her hands. He crouched down before her. Brushing her hair back, he cupped her chin, raising her face to look into her eyes. “Hermione? What's wrong? Are you alright? Did he you hurt you?

  
  


She was biting her lip, blinking hard, her eyes damp.

  
  


He rocketed to his feet. “I'm going to gut that little bastard!” he growled.

  
  


“Severus, no. Stop, please.” She lunge forward to grab his wrist before he could open the door and storm out. “It's not him, I swear. I'm sure he thinks himself to be Merlin's gift to witches. I was annoyed beyond all reason, but I can handle the likes of him. It's not Fletcher, it's just...” She let go of his wrist and sank back to her crate.

  
  


“It's just what? What's wrong?”

  
  


She craned her neck to look up at him, then patted the crate next to her. “Please, will you sit?”

  
  


He sat down next to her. Almost without thinking, he slid his hand over hers, giving her fingers a squeeze. “Tell me what's wrong.”

  
  


Her other hand covered her mouth as she looked in disbelief around the room. She turned to him. “I told you that I'm good at what I do, and I didn't lie about that. But now, looking at all this...” She glanced around and shook her head. "When I came here the first time, you told me that it was all in temporary storage, but I never bothered to look. I should have looked, I _really_ should have looked. I know you said it was overwhelming but this is... I don't know... I just have no words.”

  
  


His eyes circled the room, taking it in from her perspective, seeing it all in one place for the first time. “Believe me, I understand what you're feeling. The day it was all delivered, I was expecting a few boxes. By the time they were done, I was speechless too.”

  
  


Hermione swallowed nervously. “Severus, I have to be honest with you. I've never taken on a project of this scope on my own. Restorations, yes. Sorting through small family collections, yes. But none of it compares to this. Look, if you want to find someone else to...”

  
  


“No,” he interrupted. “Don't you dare finish that sentence. I don't want anyone else, I want you. You are my Librarian and I trust you with this.”

  
  


“I told you it could take months but... this? Depending on the amount of restoration needed... Dear Merlin, Severus, this could take forever.”

  
  


Severus leaned into her a little bit and shrugged. “Then it does. I have no problem with that.”

  
  


Hermione looked around the room, shaking her head in doubt.

  
  


“Hermione,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring, “they're just books. Just a bunch of bloody books.”

  
  


She gasped, but the corner of her mouth turned up slightly. “Sacrilege,” she whispered. Taking another long look around the room, she started to laugh. “I suppose you're right, but it's lots, and lots, and lots, and lots of bloody books!”

  
  


Severus’ confidence in her ability to handle the job restored her, and she managed to pull herself together. She had Severus help her rearrange the crates so there was enough room to move in a large library table for her to sort books on, and a small desk and chair for her 'office'.

  
  


Ready to begin, she turned to Severus. “I need to ask you a couple of questions before I start, then I'll let you get back to your lab. Tell me, what are your plans for Dumbledore's books?”

  
  


Severus looked at her blankly. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

  
  


“I'm just trying to get a sense of what your goals are. It will help as I'm sorting if I make notations and such on my spreadsheets about their eventual organization. For example, do you want to keep the collection all together and devote a section of your library to it? Or will you incorporate his books into your own collection? Are you looking to sell some of them?”

  
  


“I hadn't given it much thought, to be truthful. Do you think it should be kept intact?”

  
  


Hermione looked at the stacks of crates. “I can't honestly believe that _all_ of these boxes are full of rare and valuable books. That's not to say there aren't many valuable books here. I'm willing to bet, knowing Dumbledore—and you knew him much better than I did—that a good number of these crates are filled with... I don't know, Muggle novels. Who knows, maybe detective novels, or science fiction, or cowboy stories of the old American west. Oh—maybe comic books—now some of those could actually be worth a fortune in the Muggle world.”

  
  


Severus shook his head, a gleam in his eye. “Not comics, no, but your first guess was right. Muggle novels, but more likely romances.”

  
  


Hermione snorted. “Seriously? Dumbledore was a closet romance reader? ”

  
  


He nodded. “Oh, yes. It was his secret addiction.”

  
  


“Shades of Barbara Cartland,” Hermione said with a laugh, unable to hold it back any longer. “Well, he did always preach to Harry about the power of love.”

  
  


Severus shrugged. “I fear his literary choices were less about love and more about lust, if the titles and covers were any indication.”

  
  


“Oh my. Somehow, that's something I'd like to scrub from my mind,” complained Hermione.

  
  


Severus made a sour face. “Myself as well. Aside from his Muggle books, though, what are your thoughts as to the rest of the collection?”

  
  


Hermione didn't have to consider, she'd already given this serious thought. “Not everyone would agree with me on this, but if it were up to me—unless you were planning to donate it all together to a museum or some kind of Dumbledore Official Memorial Library—I say they're your books now, Severus. He wanted _you_ to have them, not some museum, not some memorial for the ages, you. He gave them to you. You should add them to your collection and enjoy them. That's my official recommendation.”

  
  


Severus didn't say anything for a few moments, but his jaw tightened and he seemed lost in thought as he gazed blankly straight ahead. Finally he asked, “That doesn't seem... selfish?”

  
  


Hermione laid her hand gently on his arm. His eyes were averted and she had to tug him round to face her.  “No, Severus, it doesn't. It was his wish that you get them.” She thought for a moment, then suggested, “Why not consider this? If you'd like, let's pick some of the books that would have had special meaning to him. He was a Transfiguration teacher before he became Headmaster, so my guess is he's collected some fabulous books on the subject. We could put together a special collection of them and you could donate it to Hogwarts in his name.”

  
  


Severus glanced at her and nodded. “I like that idea very much, thank you. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, perhaps you could also choose a few, as well, for Minerva, Filius, and Pomona, in their specific subject areas. Oh, and something special for Hagrid.”

  
  


At Severus' kindness, especially in thinking of Hagrid -- who would certainly treasure a remembrance of the Headmaster he'd so revered -- Hermione felt her eyes fill. She casually rubbed the corner of her eye, pretending that she'd caught bit of dust there. “I think that's a wonderful idea. I'll be sure to make the appropriate notations when I'm cataloging them. I imagine that there will be some duplication between your own books and his collection. Do you have an index of what's currently in your own library that I can refer to?”

  
  


“I do. I'll have to look through my files. I can get it to you later.”

  
  


Severus returned to his lab, leaving Hermione to tackle her first crate. This was one of the best parts of her job. To her, it was like opening a treasure chest. She pried off the top and pulled back the top layer of the scratchy wood wool packing. Taking a deep breath in, the mingled aromas of leather, dust, old parchment, and the ever-so-slight hint of lemon furniture polish wafted up to her. It was better than any bouquet of roses.

  
  


Eagerly she pulled out the first book. It was thin, the spine showed some wear but wasn't cracked, the once bright gold lettering on the cover was now faded: Transfiguration Made Easy by Zelda Terwillager. It looked like a beginner’s primer, something a much younger Dumbledore might have read. Opening the book, she read the inscription on the fly leaf. The handwriting looked to have been written by a child's hand and it ran slightly downhill. Her eyes burned and she was forced to blot the tears before they fell on the page: _Dear Albus, I hope you have a very happy birthday. I wanted to get you a jumbo bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, but mum said you really wanted this book. I hope she was right. Love Abe. P.S. I had a few knuts left over so at least there's a few lemon sherbets._

  
  


The words made her pause. Her feelings toward the world-renown wizard had slid far toward the side of bitterness after she'd learned how he'd used them all, especially Harry, like chess pieces. Pushing them around the playing field as he saw fit, regardless of the consequences for any of them, all for the greater good. But she'd forgotten somewhere along the way that once upon a time he'd been just a little boy who had a younger brother who loved him, and that he'd dearly loved to learn and read and eat lemon sherbets. It made him more real, somehow.

  
  


Dear Merlin, she'd better not get this emotional over every book she looked at or she'd be a mess. Moving on, she quickly became engrossed in her work. She listed each book by title, author, topic, and publication date, also doing a quick assessment regarding the condition and noting if any specific repairs were needed. Of course, being Hermione Granger, she often got side-tracked along the way when she found some interesting bit of information while leafing through the pages.

  
  


Before she knew it, a loud growl from her stomach reminded her that she'd skipped lunch and it was nearly dinner time. As she put away her lists, she heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” she called, expecting Severus.

  
  


The door opened and MacDougal Fletcher's head appeared around the edge, a much more subdued Fletcher than she'd met several hours earlier, to be sure. “Excuse me, I've got those lists you asked for earlier, if this isn't a bad time that is.”

  
  


“No, this is fine. Come in, Mr Fletcher.”

  
  


The young man shuffled over to her desk and laid several sheets of parchment before her. As she reached out to pick them up, he cleared his throat. “Miss Granger, I owe you an apology for my behavior earlier. I'm sorry for how I acted.”

  
  


His demeanor now seemed to be a complete turn around from the cocky, egotistic womanizer of a few hours ago. But she hadn't introduced herself with any name other than as the Librarian. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Did Mr Snape tell you my name?”

  
  


“Oh no, Miss, he didn't,” Fletcher answered. He stared down at the top of her desk rather than look at her. “I recognized you the second I saw you. I couldn't help but know who you were, I'd had a crush on you for years.” His face went bright red. “Oh gods, I shouldn't have said that. Well, that's probably why I made such an idiot of myself. Getting this job made me feel like a big shot, don'tcha see? And I guess I was trying to impress you, coming on strong so's you'd maybe think I was some kind of great catch or something.”

  
  


There was a crease between her eyebrows as she frowned him. “MacDougal, are you bullshitting me?”

  
  


His eyes met hers in startlement at her profanity. “No, I am not. I swear, Miss Granger,” he declared staunchly.

  
  


“So you actually thought acting like an idiot was going to endear yourself to me somehow?” she asked.

  
  


“It sounds stupid now, when ya say it like that. My mates keep tellin' me I'm too shy and I need to be more aggressive with the girls.” He grinned shyly. “I guess I picked a really bad time to take their advice. The thing is, Miss, is this job is a big chance for me. I like working with my hands, and the boys and I work good together.”

  
  


“The boys?” Hermione queried.

  
  


“The house-elves. They're all free elves, ya see, Miss, an we decided to throw our lot in together and try to make a go of it. We've had a few decent jobs, but with this one we could really make a name fer ourselves. Doin' a good job here, for someone important like Mr Snape, could get us more referrals.” He shuffled his feet.  

  
  


“Mr Snape said I had to apologize to ya, but I would have done it anyway, Miss Granger, I really would. Please don't tell him to fire us. We do good work and ya can check everything we've done so far, it's all the best materials and real good workmanship, I swear.”

  
  


He seemed sincere, but she wasn't sure she could trust him—after all, he was a Fletcher. Then again, she was Hermione Granger: champion of the underdog, strong believer in second chances, and for Merlin's sake the kid worked with house-elves. “Very well, MacDougal. I will check over your lists and your estimates. Tomorrow we'll start fresh, as if today never happened, and you can show me the progress to date.”

  
  


“Oh, thank you, Miss Granger. Thanks so much.” He paused then and got a worried look on his face. “I know I haven't the right to ask, Miss. But please, please don't tell my aunt about this.”

  
  


Hermione was confused. “Your aunt? I don't understand.”

  
  


“She's my great-aunt really, but she's the main reason we got this job, her being a friend of Mr Snape an all. If she ever heard how I acted here today—how I treated ya—well, Aunt Minerva would have a piece of me for sure.”  

  
  


Hermione gasped in surprise and covered her mouth to hide her smile. Regaining her composure, she assured him, “Your secret is safe with me.” She frowned severely at him. “Be forewarned, though, if you behave questionably again, or if I find out this is all some kind of act to get in my good graces, I won't be responsible for the outcome.”

  
  


MacDougal chuckled a little.

  
  


“Do you find this amusing?” she snapped, wondering if she'd misjudged his sincerity.

  
  


“Oh no, it's not that,” he grinned. “It's just that you sounded a lot like Mr Snape just then. He said it almost just like that himself, didn't he? ' _If I ever see your fuck..._ ' err... excuse me, Miss, ' _your effin' hands touching my Librarian again, I won't be responsible for the outcome._ '”

  
  


“He said that?”

  
  


“Err...yes he did... well, except he actually said 'your fucking hands', y' know. I just didn't think I should say that in front of you, Miss.”

  
  


“No. I meant, he called me _his_ Librarian?”

  
  


“Oh, yes. Sounded pretty fierce about it too, he did.”

  
  


Hermione bit her bottom lip, hiding the smile that tried to slip out.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Their first week as housemates passed without incident, and Severus was relieved to discover that having Hermione living in his house was not as awkward as he'd feared. Lucius' dire warnings about her being underfoot and asking unending questions had proven untrue. The truth of the matter was, other than breakfast and dinner, he didn't see much of her at all over the first few days.

  
  


For some reason he found himself rather annoyed by this and began seeking her out. She was often so wrapped up in her work that she would skip lunch, something he was guilty of himself. So, he began deliberately taking a break from his potions research and making sure she took the time to have lunch with him. A couple of times, he showed up with mid-afternoon tea, and once had coaxed her to take a walk outside on the ruse of asking her opinion on where best to expand his herb garden, which was (he explained) vital to his potions work.

  
  


After a week of having her excuse herself after dinner to retire to her room for the night, he finally asked her outright. “What is it you do every evening that keeps you secluded in your room?”

  
  


“Oh, nothing specific. I usually do some reading, something just for fun. I write to Luna and Blaise, and sometimes the boys. They tend to be horrible corespondents, but they are putting forth more of an effort of late and I'm trying to encourage that. Lately I've started reviewing some notes on a project I worked on years ago, as I've been thinking about exploring it again.” Hermione shrugged. “I just try to keep busy. Usually when I'm on a long-term project like this and I'm actually staying in a client's home, I try to keep out of the way when I'm not working. I don't want to interrupt anyone's routine. I'm here to do a job, I'm not a house guest and I don't expect to be entertained.”

  
  


“Hermione, there's no reason for you to sequester yourself away every night. While I don't intend to break into song and dance for your amusement, I have no problem with sharing the parlor with you in the evenings. It isn't as if you are interfering in any set routine of the household—there's just me here, for Merlin's sake. In fact I'd rather enjoy the chance to share a conversation on occasion with someone other than Lucius.”

  
  


“Are you sure?” she asked with a rather hopeful look on her face. “I really wouldn't want to intrude.”

  
  


“I give you permission to intrude. In fact I'm inviting you to,” he said. When she looked at him uncertainly, he added, teasingly, “Please don't make me beg.”

  
  


He was rewarded with a laugh. “Oh, very well. If you're sure I won't be a nuisance, but you must promise that anytime you don't want me hanging about you'll say so. I won't be offended.”

  
  


“I'm sure you know me well enough to be sure that I don't worry about offending anyone. If I want to be alone I have no problem saying so,” he assured her.

  
  


From that point on they spent their evenings together. Sometimes they simply sat together and read companionably in silence. Other times they would discuss his current research, or what interesting books she'd pulled out of boxes that day. One evening Lucius stopped by for a game of wizard's chess. After the first game, they invited her to play the winner but she declined politely, saying she didn't care for the wizard version. However, the following night she brought down her father's Muggle chess set, which she'd retrieved from home, and asked Severus if he'd like to play. That was soon added to their options for evening activities.

  
  


By the end of the first month, things were progressing well. The building project was on schedule. The smaller addition, a private study area for Severus, was completed and Hermione now used that as her temporary office. Fletcher's work had been all that he promised and his attitude toward Hermione was much improved and now bordered on hero-worship. She refused to call him Doogie, saying it sounded too juvenile, and called him Mac instead. He in turn had been convinced to call her L, and he trailed after her like an adoring puppy dog. Severus couldn't find it in him to be more than moderately irritated with the situation, as it was abundantly apparent that the young man was more like an annoying little brother than any kind of rival.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Their routine became so well established—meals together, occasional outings roaming the gardens or collecting potions ingredients nearby, evening spent companionably in the parlor—that Severus actually found himself at a loss when she informed him that she would be returning home to Thurso for the weekend, as she and Lovegood had a standing monthly appointment for something called a 'girls night' (which sounded awful to him, but Hermione had seemed quite enthused about it). For some reason, once she'd gone, Severus couldn't help but feel as though he'd been abandoned.

  
  


He told himself that he was being ridiculous and decided to pop over to the manor to take his mind off the fact that the place he'd lived in quite comfortably for nearly ten years suddenly seemed empty. Luck was on his side: both Lucius and Draco were in for the evening and more than happy to have company.

  
  


~*~

  
  


“So, Severus, how are you getting on with your new housemate?” teased Lucius, once they'd settled comfortably before the fire in the drawing room for after-dinner brandies.

  
  


“You've taken on a roomie, Severus?” asked Draco, giving his former head of house and mentor a quizzical look. “Why is this the first I've heard of it?”

  
  


“Your father is being his usual asinine self.” Severus took a sip of his brandy and sighed. Lucius did have good taste in liquor, though, you had to credit him for that.

  
  


He turned to explain to Draco, “He's referring to Miss Granger, she's working on organizing and adding Dumbledore's books to my library. She's also overseeing the remodeling project to expand the current space to make room for it all. She needed somewhere close by to stay during the project, so the dower house made the most sense.”

  
  


“You and Granger? That's a combination I'd never considered,” mused Draco.

  
  


“Oh, I can see it,” Lucius contributed, “as clear as day.”

  
  


“Yes. It is rather obvious when you think about it,” agreed Draco with a sly grin.

  
  


“Stop it both of you, right now,” demanded Severus, standing to loom over them. “Your joking is going too far.”

  
  


“We aren't joking,” said Lucius with a poker face. Draco nodded.

  
  


“You can't be serious,” Severus sputtered, still sure they were having him on.

  
  


“Actually yes, I am, Severus. I meant it when I said I'd never considered you and Granger, but now that I do—well, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it?” said Draco.

  
  


“I've been trying to make him see that for weeks, but of course he pays no attention to me. I'm only his best friend after all, why on earth would he listen to me?” Lucius rose to fill his drink again. He glanced back at their glasses and returned with the decanter.

  
  


“Lucius, stop harping on the subject,” he said in vexation. “If anything develops past a working relationship with Hermione, you'll be the first to know. Until then just drop it.”

  
  


The three spent the rest of their evening playing cards, smoking cigars and polishing off that bottle of brandy, another of Firewhiskey, and the good part of one or more bottles of some other unidentified inebriating substances. By the time they were done, to say they were pissed was putting it mildly. Severus, too drunk to Apparate, was easily convinced to spend the night.

  
  


They stumbled up the stairs. Lucius entered his own suite and Draco threw his arm around Severus' shoulder, staggering along amicably with him until they reached the guest room. “Meant what I said earlier, Severush,” Draco slurred. “You should think 'bout this thing wish you 'n Granger. You've both changed since the war. You're waaay more nice now, almos' mellow sometimes. An' 'Ermione? She's doin' great, isn't she? Seems completely recovered from that lil' breakdown thingie she had.”

  
  


Severus was having a hard time focusing on what Draco was saying. “What? I don' unnerstan' you. Whatever are you yammerin' on about?”

  
  


“You know—after the war—at the Ministry. I was there that day. When she flipped out,” Draco waved his hands in the air to emphasize his point, nearly falling over in the process. “She tackled that poncy Pershy Weaslebee to the ground.” Draco giggled fondly at the memory. “An' then I watched 'er take out 'alf a squad of Aurors. Stunners flyin' outta her wand as fast as one of Lovegood's blubberin' flumdingers... er... blabberin' bumflammers... err...flim flammy thingies... whatever. Anyhoo, it was amaaazing. Then after, she walked away. From everything. Jus' walked. Girl's got guts.”

  
  


With that, Draco opened Severus' door and gave him a shove in the direction of the bed before continuing on down the hallway to his own room. Severus collapsed on the bed without even bothering to undress. The last thing he heard before darkness took him was his own voice asking, “What the hell was that all about?”

 

TBC

 


	4. Chapter 4

The Librarian

  
  


Chapter 4

  
  


Severus awoke with a pounding head, a roiling stomach, and a mouth that tasted like a herd of hippogriffs had wandered through it. Carefully rolling to the edge of the bed, he reached down for his clothes—which he'd removed at some forgotten point during the night—and pulled out a vial of hangover relief potion from one of the pockets.  He thanked his lucky stars that he'd thought far enough ahead to grab some from his stores before leaving the dower house. He gulped it down quickly, then lay back for a few minutes waiting for it to take effect.

  
  


Twenty minutes later, he was showered, dressed and ready to start the day, the first order of which was to find out what the hell Draco had been talking about last night. Entering the breakfast room, he greeted his hosts, who were both looking a little green around the gills, in a loud voice. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  
  


“Oww...” moaned Draco, clapping his hands over his ears. “Shh... not so loud.”

  
  


“Severus, you bastard. You'd better have enough extra to go around,” grumbled Lucius, holding his hand over his eyes.

  
  


“Extra? Extra what? Whatever are you talking about, Lucius?” said Severus, sliding his cup over for the house-elf to fill with coffee. “Mmm... coffee.”

  
  


“You know damn well what—the hangover relief potion. I know you have some, 'else you wouldn't be so bloody cheerful. Hand it over now, you damned torturer,” demanded Lucius with his hand out.

  
  


“What makes you think I brought extra? You need to start stocking your own vital supplies.”

  
  


Lucius hand flashed out and grabbed Severus' coffee cup. “No coffee for you until we get our potion,” he growled, but upon seeing Severus' dark look he quickly slid the cup back over toward him. “Oh, fine, take it back, I should know better than to get between you and your morning brew. But have some mercy, man. We're your friends, after all.”

  
  


With a chuckle Severus withdrew two vials from his pocket. “Very well, but it will cost you. Draco, I want to know what you were talking about last night. About Hermione at the Ministry? I don't recall hearing of an incident such as you described, surely the _Prophet_ would have had a field day.”

  
  


Draco's stretched a palm across the table. “Gimme... gimme,” he begged. “I'll talk. I was there that day, I had a front row seat. I know all. ”

  
  


Lucius held his hand out as well. He wouldn't lower himself to begging, but he did offer information. “Shacklebolt put pressure on the _Prophet,_ and I suspect Potter also pulled strings behind the scenes. The official word was that Miss Granger had resigned from her position due to personal choices and the Ministry wished her well in all future endeavors.”

  
  


Severus dropped the vials in their hands and watched patiently as the two gulped them down and waited for the potion to work.

  
  


After several minutes Draco sat up and pulled his coffee toward him, cupping it protectively between his palms. He nursed it down in small sips for another minute or so, then began his story.

  
  


“First let me give you a little background. You remember that I worked at the MLE after the war for a few years?” Severus nodded. “Well, that wasn't by choice. I agreed to work for them in lieu of a good portion of the settlement they were demanding from our estate for war reparations. Seems they rather liked the idea of having a pet Death Eater on staff to parade out for the general public. You know, to show we could be reformed, that they were in control of things.”

  
  


“Typical,” muttered Lucius, shaking his head.

  
  


“It seems Granger was in the same boat I was, except she was their pet Muggle-born. She was placed high up in her department, second in command, but they never let her actually accomplish anything. She was a token, there to prove that the Ministry had changed their practices on promoting Muggle-borns. The fact that she was part of the trio was just icing on the cake.”

  
  


Severus shook his head in denial. “I can't imagine her ever accepting a job like that. She always had such a drive to succeed.”

  
  


“I'm sure in the beginning she thought the job offer was genuine,” offered Lucius. “I know the Ministry originally expected to capture the trifecta. They thought they'd have the entire golden trio in their pocket. Imagine their disappointment when Potter and Weasley both went their separate ways. She disappeared for a while, but when she returned about six months later, they pursued her very aggressively for the job.”

  
  


Severus picked idly at his breakfast, all the while managing not to eat a bite. “How is it you know these things, Lucius?”

  
  


“I may not have the influence I once did, but I still have my connections, even back then,” Lucius replied with a smirk.

  
  


“Blaise mentioned once that her absence after the war had something to do with her family,” Draco went on, “but then he clammed up. He and Luna guard Granger and her privacy like the Muggle crown jewels. I do know that she was clearly not the same girl as before. She became withdrawn, she always looked tired like she wasn't sleeping enough, and she was anxious... jumpy, crowds bothered her, loud noises too. She hated those public appearances the Ministry was always forcing us to do.” He paused to pour a fresh cup of coffee while Severus stood up and began pacing, clearly agitated by Draco's tale.

  
  


“Just before the end, I remember an incident in the cafeteria. It was just the four of us having a break, no one else was around. Someone in the back dropped a whole tray of dishes. At the crash, Granger panicked. She dropped like a stone beneath the table and tried to pull Lovegood down with her. She kept whispering 'Hide, Luna. They're coming.' Luna and Blaise managed to pull her out of there finally and hurried her back to her office. That was when I realized that she was in trouble.”

  
  


Severus paused in his pacing to glare at Draco. “Where the hell were Potter and Weasley during all this? They should have noticed, couldn't they see something was wrong?”

  
  


Lucius looked at his friend with concern, then cleared his throat. “They'd moved on by that point. Potter had started playing professional Quidditch, he was traveling all over Europe for exhibition matches and public appearances. Weasley was a partner in his brother's business. They both went on with their lives. I suppose they assumed that she'd done the same.”

  
  


“Bloody selfish bastards,” muttered Severus.

  
  


“Let's face it, Severus. Even back at Hogwarts, everyone knew she was the caregiver in that relationship,” said Draco. “Never the other way around.”

  
  


“Yes, and knowing that, it seems unlikely that she would have asked them for help,” contributed Lucius.

  
  


Severus sat back down and glared across the table at Draco. “All right, finish it. What was the incident you spoke of last night?”

  
  


Draco took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. His gaze drifted off as if he were picturing that day in his mind. “We were sent to another of the big public events they were so fond of. They called this one Auror Appreciation Day. There was an awards ceremony scheduled, for things like: years of service, bravery in the line of duty, most cases solved, blah, blah, blah, blah...  Granger and I and a few others were chosen to present the awards. A stage was set up in the public square and a crowd had gathered. Percy Weasley was Shacklebolt's assistant at the time, so he was there representing his boss. He'd just got up and made a speech, then he introduced Hermione as the first presenter. Someone had come up with the brilliant plan to have a whole squad of Aurors Apparate in, _en masse_ , into the square. A sort of honor guard, if you will, for those receiving awards.”

  
  


Draco paused, clearly unsettled by his recollections, and Severus motioned impatiently for him to get on with it.

  
  


“I knew something was wrong as soon as we heard the first cracks of Apparition,” continued Draco, his voice rough now. “She stiffened and ducked, then she turned and tackled Weasley to the ground. She was screaming, 'Get down, Ron! Where's Harry—where in hell is Harry?' Before anyone even knew what was happening, she turned her wand on the Aurors and took out half the squad with stunners in the matter of a few seconds.”

  
  


“Oh, dear gods,” mumbled Severus, clearly picturing what came next. His hands covered his face, fingertips massaging his forehead as though trying to ward off a headache.

  
  


“It was total chaos: the crowd was screaming, running in all directions, the staff on the stage were dumbfounded. When the Aurors started to return fire, Granger crawled behind the podium, dragging Weasley with her. I realized someone had to do something, so I jumped forward and shouted at them to stand down by order of the MLE. Then I grabbed Granger, wrapped my arms around her, turned my back to the Aurors so they couldn't get a clear shot, and prayed. I was little more than a desk jockey at the MLE, so I wasn't too sure if they'd listen to me.”

  
  


Lucius stared, horrified, at his son. “Draco, you never told me that part.”

  
  


Draco waved off his father's concern. “I gave her a couple of shakes but when that didn't work I slapped her—in all honesty, I have to admit there might have been a bit of pay-back on my part for something that happened in third year. I shouted at her to snap out of it and she finally came back to herself. She looked around, horrified. The next thing I knew she jerked back out of my arms, whispered a heartfelt 'oh, fuck', and Apparated away. That was the last time I saw her for several years. I heard later that she'd immediately resigned and cleared out her office. She walked away from it all. After that she completely disappeared from the wizarding world.”

  
  


Severus sat there stunned. He couldn't believe he'd never heard any of this before. With that many witnesses, surely there must have been rumors. Still, if the Ministry had pressured the media, they could have hushed it up, and after a time the rumors would have faded.

  
  


He was furious for what had happened to her. Had no one realized that she needed help? The Ministry didn't care, they just used people. He wanted to tear something apart. Unfortunately, at that very moment, the easiest target was the messenger, who just  happened to be directly in his line of sight.  “Did you laugh about it then, Draco?”

  
  


Draco looked up, stunned. His eyes grew round and his pale complexion paled even further. “What?”

  
  


“Did it make you happy to see your old rival brought so low?” Severus continued on, his voice gruff.

  
  


“Of course not...”

  
  


Severus gave him no chance to explain. “She was finally run out of the wizarding world. Wasn't that what you'd always wanted? Did you rush off then, to tell all your little friends about the public spectacle?”

  
  


Draco's jaw tightened and his shoulders squared as he stood from the breakfast table. Looking down at his godfather he replied coldly, “No, I did not, Severus—I didn't do any of those things. You see, the fact of the matter is, I rather understood how Hermione felt. The nightmares, the guilt, the anxiety, constantly seeing things from the past that you wished with all your heart you could forget. Things you wished you'd never seen in the first place. Wondering if your life would ever be normal again. Even now, wondering how someone you trusted and respected could think so little of you.” Draco's chair screeched as he shoved it back from the table and stalked out of the room.

  
  


“He did _not_ deserve that, Severus,” Lucius' voice was low, rough and tinged with anger.

  
  


Severus slumped in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Christ! Don't you think I know that? I'm such an idiot sometimes. I always let my temper and my mouth hurt the people I care about most.” Severus stood to go after his godson. “I must go apologize.”

  
  


Lucius' hand closed over his arm. “Give him a chance to cool down. He'll listen then. I know Draco, he will forgive you, but he'll need some time.” As Severus sank back into his chair, Lucius added, “You do realize what might have happened to her had he not intervened that day.”

  
  


“Yes, and the very thought terrifies me,” answered Severus. “I almost wish I hadn't learned about it all. Yet everything makes more sense now.” He rose and wandered over to the window to gaze unseeingly into Lucius' rose garden. “She told me she no longer uses her own name in the wizarding world, that's why she goes by the Librarian. She said that she'd rather be known for her professional reputation than her role as Potter's best friend. She said that that was a completely different life, and this is her life now.”

  
  


Lucius came to stand beside him, his hand squeezing his friend's shoulder. Leaning in he said softly, “And lucky for you, isn't it, my friend? For if she weren't known by her reputation as the Librarian, you might never have found her.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


Before returning to the dower house, Severus made his way to Draco's room to apologize to his godson. His knock was immediately answered with a brusque, “Come in.”

  
  


Severus pushed the door open. “Draco, I've come to apolo...”

  
  


“It's alright, Severus, you're forgiven,” Draco looked up from where he was sprawled across his bed, several Quidditch magazines scattered around him.

  
  


“But I treated you abominably. You can't just forgive me without even giving me a chance to explain,” objected Severus. He felt the need to make amends somehow.

  
  


Draco hauled himself upright, pushing some pillows behind him as he leaned back against the headboard. “But I already have. So there. I've heard that Muggle saying about not killing the messenger. I realize I was the messenger in this scenario—but you weren't angry at me, not really. You were angry about what happened to Granger. You couldn't get to what had hurt her, so you lashed out at me.”

  
  


Severus inclined his head, acknowledging the accuracy of Draco's analysis. “It was most unfair of me, Draco. I know that. Hell, I think I knew it even as I was doing it. If you won't let me apologize properly, I offer you the opportunity to retaliate. Go ahead and hex me.” Severus clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. This was going to hurt. Draco knew his way around quite a few inventive hexes.

  
  


Draco snorted. “I'm not going to hex you.”

  
  


Severus almost felt disappointed. “Would you rather hit me?”

  
  


Draco shook his head. “No hitting, either. I'll tell you what I will do, though. Your words did hurt me, so my pay-back is going to be in the form of words. Although I'm hoping you won't actually find them hurtful. Your penance is this: you must listen to and consider what I'm going to say right now, whether you believe it's the truth or not.”

  
  


Severus rolled his eyes a bit, but nodded in agreement.

  
  


“Clearly you lashed out at me because you were upset by hearing what happened to Granger back then. The reason you were upset is because you care about her. I think you have real feelings for her and you don't want to admit it to yourself. But I was completely serious when I said you two would be good together. She deserves to have something good in her life, someone who cares about her, and honestly so do you. You have a chance at something special here, Severus. You really need to give this some serious consideration.” Draco looked up at him with a grin and waved his hand, shooing him off. “There, I'm done now, my son. Words of wisdom have been spoken. You're forgiven and you're free to go.”

  
  


Severus shook his head and reached down to ruffle Draco's hair as he'd done when he was a little boy. On his way out of the room he paused in the doorway and looked back. “When did you get to be so wise, Draco?”

  
  


“It happened when you weren't looking, godfather.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


Hermione was distracted after returning from her visit to Luna. Severus seemed very pleased to see her, she thought, repeating more than once that the house had been very quiet without her. He even admitted outright that he'd missed her companionship. She smiled shyly at that, and had to hold her hand over her heart to contain the warm fuzzy feeling that rose in her chest.

  
  


In spite of this, she remained quiet during dinner, making sporadic idle conversation, but unable to keep her mind from wandering elsewhere. When they were settled for the evening in the parlor, Severus confronted her.

  
  


“Hermione, is something wrong? I could tell you were distracted all through dinner. You seemed a hundred miles away. Did your girls' night not go as you'd hoped? Did something happen while you were gone?”

  
  


“I'm sorry, Severus. No, girls' night was fine. Sometimes we go out somewhere, but more often we just stay in and take turns making dinner. This was Luna's turn and she cooked.”

  
  


At the thought of Luna cooking, Severus made a face, as if he were smelling something bad. “Were the results... unsatisfactory?”

  
  


Hermione couldn't help but smile at his expression. “No, it was fine. Excellent really. She made a lovely roast with onions, carrots, and potatoes. Luna's actually a very good cook. The thing is you never know what you're going to get when you go there. Depending on her whims, you may get a multi course gourmet meal, or you may get dirigible plum jam on a stack of crackers,” said Hermione with a laugh. “She had a surprise planned, too. Yesterday we took a day trip out to the Orkneys, to the Mainland, the largest island. We took the Muggle ferry over and spent the morning exploring Kirkwall.”

  
  


“Kirkwall. I've never been there myself,” said Severus. “Did you enjoy it?”

  
  


“Yes, we had a fun morning and ate lunch in a charming little cafe. We spent the afternoon exploring some of the old places on Mainland: Skara Brae, an ancient stone settlement, the Ring of Brodgar and the Standing Stones of Stenness, both stone circles,  Maeshowe a neolithic chambered cairn. It was strangest thing, but I swear I got a sense of something lingering in all of those places, like there was old magic there.”

  
  


“It's quite possible there is,” replied Severus.

  
  


“I almost moved there instead of Thurso.” She went on thoughtfully. “I wanted to get out of Inverness and something about the Mainland seemed to call to me. Kirkwall was large enough to support a bookstore, and the location offered the isolation from the rest of the world that I felt I needed at the time. I'd never really discussed any of this with Luna, but yesterday she told me that when she'd started planning this special day for us together, something about the place just called to her. And once we were there... I don't know... I just felt as if something had drawn us there. She felt it too.

  
  


“Don't you find that a bit odd?” she added, turning to Severus. “I mean that Luna and I would both feel such a strong connection to the place?”

  
  


Severus shrugged. “I suppose it could be coincidence. However, in my opinion, true coincidence is very rare. I believe more often than not, things happen for a reason.”

  
  


“Hmm...” Hermione pondered. “You know, I'm beginning to think the same thing myself.”

  
  


In the next instant she was off again, her thoughts going a hundred miles an hour in four different directions.

  
  


Severus observed her, recognizing that look. He'd worn it many times himself, whenever he was seeking a solution to a problem and felt as though it was right there in front of him, yet it remained just out of reach. He watched her for several minutes before he leaned in and patted her knee. “Hermione?”

  
  


With a small jerk, her head snapped up and she saw him looking at her. “Oh, Severus. I was ignoring you, I'm so sorry.”

  
  


“Hermione, something is clearly troubling you. Won't you tell me what it is? I've found that when I'm seeking answers, it oft times helps to get a second opinion. I'm more than willing to listen if you want to bounce ideas off me.”

  
  


She hesitated. “I'm not sure that would help, and I don't want to be a bother to you.”

  
  


Severus spread his hands and looked around the quiet room. “Do I look busy? You aren't pulling me away from anything, I'm free and I'm offering. How is that a bother?”

  
  


At her doubtful look, he moved to sit next to her, his left arm resting casually on the back of the sofa as he placed his right hand gently over hers. “Hermione, I'd like to help. It's obvious that something is wrong. I don't like seeing you distressed, it makes me feel...”  Severus paused as if uncertain how to finish his thought. “...something,” he finished lamely.

  
  


Hermione's heart clenched again. She'd admitted to herself weeks ago that Luna was right in her crazy observations. Hermione did _like_ like Severus, as Luna had put it, but she'd been fighting her feelings because she thought them to be one-sided. His actions and words since she'd returned today suggested otherwise. But she knew he was not the type of man to show his feelings easily, and if she rejected this offer now he would likely pull back and distance himself. That was the very last thing she wanted.

  
  


Hermione turned her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, and clasped it gently. She looked up at him and said, “Severus, thank you. You're quite right, there's something I've been working on and I haven't been able to figure it out. I'd be happy to have your  help.”

  
  


He quickly glanced down at their entwined hands, but didn't pull away. If anything, he might have slid just the tiniest bit closer to her. “Tell me. Perhaps we can figure it out together.”

  
  


“I want to help Luna. The Ministry simply washed their hands of her, while the Healers at St. Mungo's seemed to have no idea at all how to treat her. They say her core magic is still there, but she simply can't access it. It's almost like something is blocking it. I have this idea...” Hermione started nibbling at her lower lip as her eyes lost their focus.

  
  


“And she's off again.” Severus murmured with a chuckle. He gave her a nudge. “I know how hard it is when you're problem-solving to stay in the now, your mind shoots off faster than a Muggle race car. But stay with me now and tell me your idea.”

  
  


Hermione blushed and gave him a little smile. “Sorry. You're exactly right. I start thinking of something, then my brain jumps to something else, and before you know it I'm a million miles away.” She took a deep breath.

  
  


“Remember a while back, I mentioned I was reviewing some research I'd done a few years ago?” At his nod, she continued. “It was for something I'd dabbled in after the war. And lately, I've been wondering if it could maybe be adapted to help Luna.”

  
  


“What is it you were working on back then?”

  
  


“Well, I was actually trying to find some help for myself for certain... issues I was having at the time.”

  
  


“Issues? Such as...?”

  
  


Hermione hesitated, reluctant to talk about that part of her past. “Nightmares, guilt, anxiety, panic attacks... things I couldn't seem to control. I got the idea to make magical artifacts, amulets, to try to relieve some of the pressure. You know, something to calm me, or protect me. The ones I made for myself never seemed to work very well. I did make some for other people that seemed to work, though.”

  
  


Severus frowned. “Why didn't they work for you? Did you ever figure it out.”

  
  


“Yes, I do have a theory.” Hermione pulled away and, getting up from the sofa, paced around the room nervously. “They didn't work because my issues were symptoms of something deeper, they weren't the actual problem. I'm sure you didn't keep track of former students after the war, but I worked at the Ministry for a while. That was a huge mistake on my part. Anyway, eventually I left after a horribly public display...”

  
  


“Hermione, you needn't go into detail about that. You're right that I didn't keep track of former students so I didn't hear about it back then. However, I was at the manor while you were gone and Draco...”

  
  


“Draco told you, then?” For some reason she felt a sense of relief. “It's alright, at least you got an accurate account. He was there, and thank gods for that. If he hadn't stepped up...” She shuddered, remembering. “You know, I later realized that Draco understood me. I think he was dealing with the many of the same issues I was.” She glanced at him.  “So you're aware that I left the wizdarding world entirely for some time after that?”

  
  


Severus nodded in acknowledgment.

  
  


She gave a rueful grimace. “Harry and Ron were furious with me at the time. They thought I should go to St. Mungo's. I disagreed with them, so I refused. For all the wonders of magic, it seems to me the wizarding world puts forth very little effort in matters dealing with mental health or treating people’s psyches. I chose to seek treatment in the Muggle world and was diagnosed with what they call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

  
  


“PTSD, I've read about it,” commented Severus.

  
  


Hermione's eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  
  


“Oh, not in any magical journals, to be sure. You're quite right in that respect. It was in a Muggle medical journal I was reading for research. I think you'll find that half-bloods as well as Muggle-borns are more willing to make use of information from the Muggle world.”

  
  


Hermione nodded. “So you see, the amulets didn't work for me because I was trying to treat the individual symptoms—the nightmares, the flashbacks, the guilt—rather than the underlying source of my trouble.”

  
  


“Which was?” Severus asked gently.

  
  


“Which was that mentally, I was just seriously fucked up,” she admitted bluntly with a sad smile.

  
  


“But as I said, the ones I made for other people did seem to help them. For example Ron had gone to work for George at WWW. For all his bluster, he actually didn't have a very good self-image. He never felt as if he could live up to his older brothers, or to Harry. The amulet I gave him seemed to help build his self-confidence.”

  
  


Severus nodded. “Yes, I saw that often in students at Hogwarts. In the staff room we used to call it younger brother syndrome.”

  
  


“Ron's amulet worked so well that he asked me to make something for George. His grief over losing Fred was so bad that Ron feared he might do something drastic. Of course nothing could ever take his grief away, but I made an amulet for him designed to attract positive energy and feelings of peace. He felt better wearing it, and it seemed to help him.”

  
  


“Interesting,” Severus murmured. “Clever of you to approach it that way.”

  
  


“I made a few others. When I left the wizarding world, though, I simply stopped working on the project.”

  
  


Hermione stopped in front of the fireplace, her arms wrapped around herself, and stared unseeing into the low embers glowing there. She heard Severus get up and walk across the room towards her. He came so close to her that she could feel him behind her.

  
  


His earlier contact seemed to have made him braver: he now rested a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture and leaned close to speak softly to her. “And you're considering now that creating something of the sort for Miss Lovegood could help her regain access to her magic?”

  
  


Taking advantage of his nearness, and feeling bolder herself, Hermione leaned back into him slightly, relishing his warmth. Encouraged when he didn't pull away, she turned slightly to look up at him over her shoulder. “Yes. Does that seem presumptuous of me? To think I might be able to help her when the Healers could not?”

  
  


“No, it doesn't. You pointed out yourself that they aren't infallible, they can't fix everything. Maybe what your friend needs is exactly this, for someone to think outside the box. Come,” he said, taking her hand to lead her back to the sofa. “I know very little about the practice of creating such artifacts, tell me what it entails.”

  
  


“They're created using things found in nature which are known to have certain qualities. Much like a wand maker chooses certain woods and core materials based on specific qualities, so do amulet makers seek particular things,” she explained. “When I created Ron's amulet, I used a white agate as the primary component, because agate's known qualities include calming, building self-confidence, improving concentration, perception, and analytical abilities, among others.” Severus nodded following her reasoning. “For George's, however, I used a blue-green jade because it's known to encourage peace, reflection, inner serenity and patience, and can help those who feel overwhelmed by situations beyond their control.”

  
  


“Do you ever combine items?”

  
  


“Oh yes. Think about a Native American shaman's medicine bag, which often contains a number of magical items of personal significance. The amulet maker could also incorporate specific charms and spells to reinforce the qualities they wished to imbue the amulet with.” She went of to offer other examples, including some of her own innovations, pleased by his interest.

  
  


Severus listened carefully to everything she told him, taking in all the information. Soon he got up and began to pace back and forth: she could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he processed all the information. He tapped his forefinger against his lips, then paced some more, then ran his fingers through his hair, then paced some more. Finally, he set his hands on his hips and stared at the wall in silence.

  
  


“Severus?” she said softly after some time had passed.

  
  


Severus started and turned suddenly as though surprised to see her watching him. He looked chagrined as he rubbed the back of neck. “I'm doing the exact same thing I accused you of earlier, aren't I? I was completely lost in thought.”

  
  


Hermione smiled warmly at him. “Yes, I didn't want to interrupt. So what do you think?”

  
  


“Have you considered using potions?” he asked, summoning an ottoman over to the sofa and sitting down before her.

  
  


“You think you could invent a potion to help Luna?”

  
  


“No, not on it's own. What I meant was, what about using potions in conjunction with one of your amulets? Using potions to strengthen particular components, such as infusing a strengthening potion, or a calming potion, or a healing potion, or whatever, into the amulet itself to enhance the desired effect.”

  
  


Hermione's eyes opened wide in surprise. “I hadn't even considered that idea. Severus, you're brilliant!” She leaned forward, throwing her arms around his neck to give him a big hug.

  
  


He lightly hugged her back, his face taking on a faint blush, then put his hands on her shoulders to push her gently back. “Don't get too excited,” he cautioned. “It's just an idea, we don't know if it will work in practice. I had another thought, as well. You might want to consult with Mr Longbottom.”

  
  


“Neville? But he's an herbologist, I don't...” Her frown turned into a smile as it dawned on her. “Of course! Why didn't I think of that? If we did something like the shaman's medicine bag, Neville might be able to give us suggestions for magical herbs or plant extracts to put inside. Things that, like the potions, would enhance or balance the amulet.”

  
  


“Yes. Perhaps he could even suggest certain plant fibers to use for braiding for the cord, or for weaving to make a pouch or bag,” added Severus.

  
  


“Oh sweet Merlin, so many possibilities I'd never even considered,” Hermione said, excitement flooding through her. “Severus, thank you so much.”

  
  


He looked at her, reaching to brush a strand of hair back out of her face. “I meant what I just said, though. They are just ideas. There is no guarantee that they will come to anything. How do you envision utilizing this amulet if we are able create it?”

  
  


“Well, I know a little about the spell she was working on at the time she was injured. It was a project for the MLE, a way to enable Aurors to handle a violent criminal without injury to themselves or others. She was attempting to create a spell that would temporarily suppress someone's magic just for a matter of seconds, certainly not permanently. But something went wrong, the spell mutated or something. She lost control of it and it came back at her.

  
  


“Creating new spells is a risky business,” Severus commented. “Miss Lovegood is not the first person to inflict damage on herself.”

  
  


“Well, the spell obviously didn't remove her magic. We know that, according to what the Healers said. So I'm thinking maybe it created a barrier around the magical core, a blockage of some sort. We don't know how to remove that blockage or whether that's even advisable. Removing it might be dangerous; it might destroy her magic entirely or even kill her. But what if we could create something that could get between it and her core magic? In essence, block the blockage?”

  
  


Severus, considered for a moment. “If I'm understanding you correctly, what you are suggesting is creating an amulet that would serve a dual purpose. On the one hand it would block certain elements of the original spell that are suppressing her magic, while on the other hand simultaneously stimulate and strengthen Miss Lovegood's ability to access her magic.”

  
  


“Yes!” she exclaimed excitedly. “You've nailed it. That's exactly what I want to do. Do you think it's possible?” She held her breath as he hesitated for a moment.

  
  


“I don't know if it will work, but it's damn well worth a try.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


Hermione was surprised the next morning at breakfast when Severus inquired whether she was planning to start work immediately on designing the amulet.

  
  


“I will continue to research in my spare time, of course, but you hired me to do a job, Severus. I won't neglect that, I promise.”

  
  


“I wasn't implying that you would. But I do know how important this project is to you—how important Miss Lovegood is to you—and I would fully understand and support you if you'd like to devote more of your time to it.” He glanced up at her from under his lashes as he fussed nervously with his juice glass, rotating it in precise quarter turns between his thumb and fingers. “In fact, I was thinking...” He hesitated, as if unsure of himself. “...I was thinking that I could put off taking on any new potions research and we could work on this project together.”

  
  


Hermione jerked her head up in surprise to find him now strangely fascinated by the full English breakfast before him. She sensed a kind of edgy tension about him and thought he looked unrested, as though he'd slept very little, if at all. “Severus, I don't know what to say. That's so very kind of you, so generous of you to offer your time and expertise and...”

  
  


“Stop!” he barked, his expression almost angry at first. He rubbed his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose. She remained silent, a little frightened, unsure what was happening.

  
  


Finally he dropped his hand limply to the table and looked directly into her eyes. “I don't know how to do this, Hermione. Someone recently informed me that I have a chance to have something good in my life and that I need to give it serious consideration. I spent all of last night doing precisely that. Tossing and turning, listing different variables in my mind, thinking of possible scenarios, assessing probable outcomes. I reached no sane conclusions.”

  
  


Hermione leaned toward him, reaching across the corner of the table to rest her hand next to his, not touching except for one fingertip against the side of his little finger. “Severus, I don't understand. What's wrong? What's going on?” she asked softly, her voice full of concern.

  
  


His gaze dropped to their two hands. “I want things, and I don't know how to get them. I'm not even sure that I should have them. Hermione, I don't know how to do this. I'm not kind or generous or romantic...”

  
  


She felt her chest go tight and she wasn't sure she could keep breathing.

  
  


“In fact I'm a mean, selfish, cold bastard. I'm damn near fifty and I've led a hard life, but lately... lately, I've been thinking about the things I'd like to have. And about how quickly things can change—a rogue spell, a fatal illness, an opportunity missed, and all is lost. I'd like nothing better than to spend my days working with you on projects like this, doing research together, working side by side in the lab or the library, taking our meals here, spending our evenings in the parlor, our nights...”

  
  


Hermione moved her hand fully into his, clasping it tightly as he continued. “I know I should go slowly, should probably take more time. I know there are certain rituals of courtship and the like that women expect, but I know nothing of those things.”

  
  


She couldn't believe this was happening. He must have stayed awake all night worrying through all these thoughts and—typical Severus—he'd decided to just cut to the chase.

  
  


“Gods, I really don't know how to do this,” he said looking away. “Our beginnings were so unconventional. You were my student for Chrissakes. You were only eleven years old when I first laid eyes on you. What am I thinking?”

  
  


Hermione scooted closer. One hand still clasped in his, she reached across with the other and softly caressed his cheek. She tipped his face towards her, her thumb dropped to trace his lips. His eyes were locked on her face as she spoke. “But I'm not that little girl anymore, Severus. I'm a woman, fully grown, who knows exactly what she wants. The idea of spending weeks and months on end gradually getting closer, of holding hands and walks in the park, of flowers and candy and silly little gifts, that all seems like a waste of time to me.”

  
  


Hermione got up from her chair and, moving slowly, came around the end of the table, approaching him with as much caution as she would a wild beast. She muttered under her breath, “Dear goddess, I hope to hell I've not misread this.” She wedged herself between him and the table, her arse practically in his plate so she awkwardly reached behind her to shove it back. “You may think you don't know how to do this, Severus, but it seems to me that you're doing just fine.”

  
  


Leaning forward she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him toward her. “I do know what I want. I want everything you just described. Most of all, I want you.” Her lips touched his tentatively, fearing she'd imagined his meaning and that he would push her away.

  
  


His reaction was just the opposite. With a lurch, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her roughly across his lap and clutching her tightly to him. A deep groan escaped from his throat as the fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, holding her in place, just so. His kisses were soft at first, then more firm, the tip of his tongue traced over her lips before barely slipping inside. When she responded readily, teasing her tongue against his, he gave way and devoured her mouth. Finally, he pulled back to drop tiny kisses at the corners of her mouth, then to nuzzle at her neck.

  
  


When Severus' mouth hit a certain spot on her neck, a shot of lust so strong flashed through her she thought she would go up in flames. She arched against him, trying to pull him even closer to her. Dear goddess, she hadn't felt like this in so long, and never with this sort of intensity. The little unintentional whimpers escaping her throat seemed to insight him to take further action. Their kissing resumed and his hand was sliding up her leg, under her robes, up her thigh—when a sharp gasp sounded from the doorway to the dining room.

  
  


They both froze in place. Hermione looked up, to see Mac Fletcher standing in the doorway. Self-consciously she jumped up to stand stiffly next to Severus' chair. Before she could move farther away, his hand flashed out to grab her wrist, keeping her close.

  
  


“Oh, um... sorry to interrupt. Err... I mean...” Mac stood there, an embarrassed flush covering his face, his eyes now glued to the floor. “Just stopped in to let you know our plans for today's work.”

  
  


“Your work has been exemplary thus far,” said Severus, his words so short and sharp that it sounded to Hermione as if his jaw was clenched tightly. “You're now in charge. If there are any questions, you decide. And unless the fucking house is on fire, I don't want to be disturbed.”

  
  


He stood up and turned to Hermione, tugging her along with him. “You. Come with me.”

  
  


She smiled but said nothing, following him willingly if somewhat hesitantly. Severus paused briefly beside Mac to say, “We will be busy all morning. I don't want any further interruptions.” He started to walk away, but after a couple of steps he paused, reconsidered, and added, “Better make that for the rest of the day.”

  
  


Severus strode down the hall toward the stairs, towing Hermione in his wake. He was halfway up the stairs to the landing when he stopped and swung her up into his arms. He whispered in her ear, “Remind later me to thank Draco for his wise advice.” He kissed her briefly, and proceeded the rest of the way up the stairs. His footsteps echoed down the hallway to his destination.

  
  


Hermione glanced over his shoulder to see Mac standing at the bottom of the stairway with his mouth hanging open. “Blimey,” she heard him mutter to no one in particular. “I did not see that one coming.”

  
Then the bedroom door slammed loudly and locked with a resounding click behind them.

  
  


TBC


	5. Chapter 5

 

The Librarian

 

Chapter 5

 

 

Severus awoke from a sound sleep and stretched leisurely, it felt odd to be greeted by the evening light. But he felt good, totally relaxed and sexually satiated. His memories of how he'd spent all morning and half of the afternoon brought a rare smile to his face. A smile that quickly disappeared when he realized that he was alone in the bed. Had it all been a dream? Or if it was real, perhaps Hermione had come to her senses and left as quickly as she could.

 

Before he could come up with any more doomsday scenarios, a movement from the window seat caught his eye. Hermione was propped up there wearing his shirt. A tartan throw, that Minerva had sent him one year at Christmas, was tucked over her legs, and a book lay open in her hands. She wasn't reading the book at present, but staring out the window with a miles away look on her face.

 

“Hermione?” he said softly.

 

“Severus, you're finally awake.” Her face lit with a smile and she set aside the book and the throw to stand and walk over to the bed. “You must have been exhausted. Didn't you sleep last night at all?”

 

“Maybe you just wore me out,” he teased, glad that his earlier fears that she'd changed her mind now proved unfounded. She slid the buttons through their holes and casually tossed the shirt on the chair by the bed. Totally naked and not at all shy about it, she pulled back the covers and slipped in next to him to snuggle up close.

 

“Umm... you're so warm. I'm sorry if my feet are too cold,” Hermione murmured, pulling her feet back so they didn't touch him.

 

“It's alright. You're perfect,” he assured her, tangling his legs with hers to pull her feet back over. He had to bite back a yelp as they brushed up against him. They really were cold!

 

Hermione giggled. “Sorry. I did warn you though, my feet tend to get cold as ice, even in summer. I didn't want you to wake and find me gone, so I couldn't go and get my slippers, and I didn't think you'd care to have me snoop through your drawers for a pair of warm socks.”

 

Severus raised himself up on an elbow. “What time is it?”

 

“I haven't checked, but it must be well after six. The construction sounds stopped a while ago, so I assume they've all packed up and gone home for the day. I thought you might be hungry when you woke up so I asked Snip to prepare a cold supper to send up when you're ready. Unless you want to get dressed and go down, that is.”

 

He reached down to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “What would you like to do?”

 

“Well, it is rather cozy right here. Should we call Snip to bring the food up now?”

 

Severus slid back down in the bed and pulled the covers snugly over them. “Not just yet. I think I know a way to warm up those cold feet.”

 

It was a while before they got around to having supper.

 

~*~

 

The next morning Hermione awoke to the sound of Severus in the shower. She tapped on the bathroom door, then opened it slightly. “I'm going to go shower in my room and get dressed.”

 

He poked his head out of the shower. “Why not just join me? There's plenty of room. I'm very good at scrubbing backs... and other things.” He waggled his eyebrows at her a bit as he made the offer.

 

Hermione laughed. “I'm sure that you are. But I fear that might lead to us spending the entire day up here again, and as enticing as that sounds, we do both have work to do. I'll meet you for breakfast.”

 

By the time Hermione came downstairs, Severus was in the dining room. She heard him say something to Snip and she paused outside the entrance, fidgeting at the cuff of her shirt, trying to get a particularly stubborn button done up.

 

“Severus, I noticed that there were several buttons missing from the blouse I had on yesterday. I seem to recall hearing them ping around your room as you were ripping it off me.” She heard Severus loudly clear his throat as she moved into the doorway, but she ignored him and didn't look up, still concentrating on her cuff. “It's one of my favorite blouses. Would you mind helping me find them later? I know a simple _Accio_ would suffice, but I was thinking perhaps a naked game of 'find the button' would be more fun and...”

 

“Hermione.”

 

She noticed that Severus' voice was curt and somewhat strained.

 

Her head jerked up sharply her mouth fell open as she saw Lucius Malfoy sitting at the table. His eyebrows were halfway up his forehead.

 

Looking down, he slowly picked up his cup. His eyes flicked back and forth between Severus and Hermione as he took a long sip. Setting the cup back down carefully, he gave a knowing smirk. “Strange, but whenever I've played that game, the particular button I was seeking wasn't on the floor.”

 

Hermione's face felt like it was on fire. “Oh my goddess!” Turning, she practically ran down the hall to her office. Slamming the door behind her she threw herself into the chair behind her desk and buried her face in her hands.

 

A few seconds later she heard the door open and close quietly, and she looked up from between her fingers. Severus stood, his back pressed to door, observing her closely.

 

“Oh, Severus. I am so sorry.”

 

He frowned, the little crease appearing between his eyes and his forehead wrinkled. “What are you sorry for? Are you upset because Lucius knows? Were you thinking it would be a secret?”

 

Her eyes went wide. “No... no, not at all. Not on my part at least. I hadn't even considered not telling others about us... um... if there is an us...” She looked away and went back to fiddling nervously with her cuff. Damned buttons, that was what had started this whole scene in the first place. “Maybe I assumed too much though, about there being an _us_ , I mean.”

 

With a few long strides he was at her desk. He crouched down next to her chair and tipped her face up toward him. “You have not assumed too much. There is definitely an us, and I have no inclination to hide that from anyone.” Leaning forward he lightly kissed her forehead then turned his attention to buttoning her cuff for her. “So what _were_ you apologizing for?”

 

“For embarrassing you in front of your friend, of course. I only meant to tease you, but I wasn't paying attention and didn't realize that you weren't alone.”

 

“I am not embarrassed by you in the least. If you want to hear embarrassing, you should hear some of the things than come out of Lucius' mouth. I often swear he has the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old.” Severus stood and held his hand out to her. “Come back and have your breakfast.”

 

Hermione shook her head, her face flushing again at the thought. “I can't. I just can't face him.”

 

“You can. You must, because he's not going away any time soon, that is certain. He's always hanging about here, you know, and to be honest I wouldn't have the heart to send him away. Since Cissy's death, I seem to be his major source of entertainment.” He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. “If it makes you feel any better, he has been your champion since my first contact with you.”

 

She turned to look at him in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

 

“He's been singing your praises and trying to get me to admit to my feelings for you for weeks.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, it's true,” said Severus leading her to the door. “Now, let me give you a bit of advice. He loves to tease, so your best defense is to reply with something equally outrageous. It will stop him dead in his tracks.”

 

Somewhat to her own surprise Hermione did survive breakfast. There were no further comments from Lucius regarding buttons, thank Merlin, and he'd seemed to be on his best behavior. Severus later said that was probably due to the fact that, before he'd come to get her, he'd threatened to hex Lucius if he said anything else to upset her. She doubted that the threat would hold him off forever, though.

 

~*~

 

 

A week later, her next big break on the project came from a most unexpected source.

 

The remodeling job was nearly complete, except for adding french doors leading out onto a large balcony on the upper level. On the day they were to begin installing the doors Hermione was working in her office when she heard a tremendous crash from the terrace outside the main room of the library.

 

She dashed out to find Mac flat on the ground surrounded by shattered glass and the twisted shell of a door frame.

 

A hysterical house-elf was running in circles around him screaming, “Boss... Boss... gets up Boss!” The other two elves on the crew simply looked on in shock. Upon seeing Hermione, the first one rushed over and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer. “Please, Missy. Please helps him.” He covered his face with his hands and began to sob.

 

By the time Severus arrived, she had managed to determine from the other two that the crew had been levitating the set of doors up to the balcony when a freak gust of wind had twisted the heavy load. One of the support ropes had snapped and Mac had jumped in to push Dusty, the now hysterical elf, out of the way, thus saving his life.

 

Severus helped her carefully levitate the frame aside and Hermione knelt next to Mac. To her great relief his eyes blinked open and he groaned.

 

“Shhh... Don't move, Mac,” she cautioned. “Something may be broken, just stay still for a moment.”

 

“Nah, I'm fine, L.”

 

He tried to get up but Hermione put her hand on his chest to stop him. “Mac, I mean it. You might be hurt worse than you think.”

 

He shook his head and pulled himself to a sitting position. “Nope, I really am fine. Help me get up.”

 

Severus offered his hand and Mac stood, brushing off his clothes. “See? No worse for the wear. Ommph...” he grunted as he was nearly tackled by the hysterical elf. “There now, Dusty. It's all right, I'm not hurt. Calm down, lil' guy.”

 

As Mac attempted to reassure the elf, Hermione looked around in disbelief. She realized that although Mac had been lying smack in the middle of the debris, somehow none of it had touched him. The glass was shattered all around where he'd been and the heavy frame seemed to have separated almost as if to avoid hitting him.

 

Hermione grabbed his hand. “I don't understand how this could have happened. How could you _not_ have been injured?”

 

He grinned and pulled from under his shirt a chain with a large medallion hanging on it. “This is what saved me,” he said proudly. “My great gramps made it for me. He believed in the old ways, though a lot of the old techniques like this type of work are ignored nowadays. It's a lost art. He was a great craftsman.”

 

Hermione leaned close to Mac and studied the medallion closely. She ran her fingers over it lightly. It was round and nearly two inches in diameter and she wasn't sure what material it was made from, but there was a series of signs and symbols etched into it. Flipping it over she saw that on the back side there were several different gems and crystals embedded there.

 

“This is amazing, Mac. I've never seen anything like it. What kind of amulet is it?” She glanced up at Severus, sure he could see the excitement in her eyes.

 

“It's not. It's a talisman.”

 

Hermione frowned. “I don't understand. According to my readings it's just a different name for the same thing.”

 

“That's what most folks say these days, but according to great gramps there's a big difference. He said an amulet was more general. Like take amber, for instance, it's good for protection. So if you made a amulet with amber it could work for anyone you give it to. A talisman's more targeted, though, it's made for a certain person with specific qualities in mind.”

 

Mac held up his medallion. “See, gramps made this one just for me. Here's different gems and crystals for things he thought I'd need.” He pointed to the backside of the medallion. “Amber for protection and healing, agate for strength, emerald for err... umm... passion.” Mac blushed at that last then quickly turned the disk over to the other side. “And on this side there's different runes and symbols. And it's not just what's engraved on it either. After he'd make a talisman then he'd charge it using magic, so the power of the spells go into it too.” He patted it and tucked it back under his shirt.

 

Hermione turned to Severus with a sigh. “I guess I'm going to have to do a lot more research. This could be exactly what we're looking for. I wish I could have asked Mac's great-grandfather about his work.”

 

“Well, at least we have a new direction to look in,” replied Severus. “Perhaps we could locate another artisan of the old ways and find out more about—“

 

“Wait a minute,” interrupted Mac, a puzzled look on his face. “Why would you want to find someone else? Why not just talk to my gramps?”

 

Hermione's eyes lit up and she grab Mac by the shoulders, shaking him. “He's alive! Your great-grandfather is still alive!”

 

“Yeah, he's alive.” said Mac. Hermione squealed and hugged him hard. “I don't know why you thought he was dead.”

 

“You said he _was_ a great craftsman, in the past tense. We both assumed you meant he was gone,” explained Severus.

 

“Well, I said _was_ , because he's old now. He doesn't really do the work anymore. In fact, mine was the last one he ever made. He says charging a talisman takes too much magical energy and he just can't do it anymore. But he still loves to talk about it, to anyone who'll listen. I'm sure he'd be willing to see to you. I can send an owl and ask him, if you like.”

 

“Yes, please do,” said Severus.

 

“Only thing is, you'll have to go there. He doesn't travel far anymore. In fact, he hasn't left the island in years.”

 

“Where is it he lives?” asked Severus.

 

Hermione suddenly clutched Severus' arm so tightly she probably left bruises. Her other hand went to her chest as she gasped for breath—it felt like all the air had been sucked out of her body. She knew her face must have gone white as Severus looked at her in concern and wrapped his arm around her as if he feared she was about to collapse. Somehow she knew exactly what Mac was going to say before the words ever left his mouth,

 

“He's on the Mainland. The Orkneys, ya know? He lives in Kirkwall now, but he used to live in Stenness, not far from the standing stones.”

 

~*~

 

And so, just three days later, Hermione found herself on her way back to Kirkwall. Severus had wanted her to wait for him, but he had a potion at a critical stage that could not be left unattended. Hermione didn't want to wait, even for a few days, to learn what Mr MacDougal could tell her about the creation of talismans. Severus finally sent her off after dinner on Wednesday, with a good-bye kiss and his assurance that he would follow within a few days.

 

Hermione spent that night and the next at her home in Thurso, and on the second night she had dinner with Luna and Blaise. She hadn't yet told them of her plans, as there was no point in getting their hopes up in case nothing came of it. So she merely said that as a favor to Severus she was going to Kirkwall for a few days, to consult with a former colleague of his on the authentication of an old potions text.

 

From a window on the ferry Hermione idly watched the choppy grey waters outside. The frothy white caps and the occasional thump as the ferry cut across a larger than usual swell were a testament to her good sense at following Blaise's advice to take the ferry.

 

She'd first planned to Apparate across, but on further consideration had opted instead to travel by the Muggle ferry from Scrabster to Stromness. While the distance was not terribly far, around thirty miles, it was mostly unfamiliar territory to her and would have required Apparition over the open waters of the Pentland Firth. The area was prone to high winds and, at times, violent storms that blew in quickly without warning, both of which could play havoc with Apparition. The Muggle way was safer, and once she arrived she could easily Apparate to Kirkwall.

 

A voice from the speakers interrupted her thoughts, announcing that they would be docking in ten minutes and a short time later she was enjoying tea and scones with Liam MacDougal in his daughter Morenwyn's parlor. Hermione had liked him immediately. He was a wizened old wizard with a full head of snow white hair pulled back neatly with a blue ribbon. His bright sea blue eyes were clear and alert. He had a stocky build—not fat but solid, and he was no taller than Hermione. He was stooped a bit, as if the full weight of his one hundred and forty six years rested squarely upon his shoulders.

 

The old man now lived with his daughter and her husband Malcolm McGonagall, who was Minerva's brother. Hermione's original plan had been to get a room at the inn in town, but Wynnie, as she had insisted Hermione call her, had invited her to use the small guest cottage they kept next door.

 

“We keep it for when family comes home. Since Da came to live here, space is a bit tight, but with the wee cottage at hand there's always room for when folks come to visit. Malcolm's sister, Min, always speaks so highly of you, Miss Hermione, and we'd be pleased to have you as our guest.”

 

“It's just Hermione, Wynnie. And I'm not sure. You see, I do have a friend joining me tomorrow or the next day.”

 

“I dinna see why that matters,” grumbled Liam. “Ye both will be needin' a roof o'er yer heads, whether it be here or at the inn. My Wynnie has offered ye the wee cottage and yer friend's more than welcome ta stay there too.”

 

“Well, all right. If you're sure, I'll let Severus know to come straight here when he arrives.”

 

“Severus?” said Wynnie. She turned quickly to study Hermione closely. “That wouldn't be Severus Snape that yer speakin' of, would it?”

 

Hermione swallowed nervously. A lot of people still thought of Severus as a Death Eater and didn't believe the reports that he'd been Dumbledore's spy all along. She straightened her spine, ready to let her Librarian persona out. She needed the cooperation of Mr MacDougal and his family, but if they were going to be rude about Severus she would walk out of here right now. She'd just have to find another way to help Luna. “Yes that would be Severus Snape. He's my very close friend, as a matter of fact,” answered Hermione tartly. She was ready to either do battle on Severus' behalf or gather up her things and leave.

 

Wynnie's face broke into a wide grin and she clapped her hands together delightedly. “Achh... the dear boy, 'tis wonderful news. Min has spoken so fondly of him o'er the years, I feel that I know him. I'm sure she's pleased as punch that he's finally settlin' down with a lovely lass like yerself.” Hermione must have looked shocked because suddenly Wynnie stopped and looked embarrassed. “Oh... I'm so sorry. Perhaps I've misunderstood the situation, and you didn't mean that you're together at all, but merely friends.”

 

Hermione flushed. “Er... No, you were actually right the first time. We are together, we're a... a couple I mean. But it's just all happened fairly recently. I'm sure that Minerva wouldn't know of it yet.”

 

“Oh, I won't breathe a word,” Wynnie assured her with a wink. “I'm sure you'll want to tell her in yer own good time.”

 

“All right, all right, enough of that nonsense,” interrupted Liam. “I'm sure that young Miss Granger here dinna come all the way to Orkney to just hear ye makin' a fuss o'er who her boyfriend is. Shoo... shoo... Wynnie. Be off with ye I say, leave me to my guest. We've things to discuss.” Turning to Hermione, he asked, “Well, girlie, why ye did come to Orkney?”

 

“I think your great-grandson informed you of my interest in your talismans. In the past, I dabbled in making amulets myself, but I quit long ago.” Hermione opened her small bag summoned a small pouch from deep within. Opening it up she handed the contents to Liam. “These are some of my unfinished work from back then.”

 

The old man lifted the two pendants. One was a shiny black stone, the other a deep purple. “Hematite and amethyst. Nice specimens. Why'd ye quit?”

 

“Things happened in my life that took me in a different direction. Though just recently my interest in the practice has been rekindled. I'm hoping I might be able help a dear friend of mine. I'd just begun researching again when I learned from Mac of the work you'd done with talismans. I've read that the two are basically the same thing.”

 

Liam gave a disgusted snort. “They're similar, but not the same. A talisman's power is more focused, more concentrated.”

 

“I know, Mac explained the difference. He showed me his talisman and told me what a fine craftsman you were.”

 

Liam grunted. “Were being the key here. I was good at my craft, the best around, in fact. But I don't do it anymore. I got too old and it takes a lot of magical energy to charge a talisman with the power needed for it to do its job.”

 

“I really want to help my friend and I'm willing to learn.” Hermione gave the old man a pleading look and tried to judge what he was thinking. “Please, Mr MacDougal, will you teach me? Or at least point me in the right direction?”

 

He was silent for several moments. He picked up her unfinished amulets and examined them closely. Then, holding them in his palms, he slipped them from one hand to the other, over and over. Hermione had no idea what he was doing. Finally he looked up and studied her as closely as he had the amulets. Scooting his chair forward he leaned toward her. “Gimme yer hands girl,” he said holding his before him palms up.

 

“My hands?” she said, confused.

 

“Lay yer palms on my mine, flat,” he said curtly.

 

When she complied, he nodded and closed his eyes, then ordered her to do the same. She obeyed but after about thirty seconds curiosity won out and she peeked up at him from between her lashes. His eyes were still closed.

 

“No cheatin', girlie,” he snapped.

 

 _Okay, maybe his eyes weren't closed_ , she thought as she squeezed hers tight again.

 

“I want ye to relax, ye're too tense. I can't read ye. Take several deep breaths, in and out, real slow,” he said, demonstrating. “In. Out. Jus' like that, three times. Then just relax.”

 

She did as he asked. After a minute or two he pulled his hands away and sat back in his seat. Finally he nodded at her gravely. “You'll do, girlie.” Before she could thank him he continued, “I'm making ye no promises, ye understand? Whether or not this will help yer friend is not a sure thing. There's not many can do this type of work, but it's clear from what ye've shown me that ye've got a knack for it. I can feel a powerful magic in ye, girl.” He pointed to the amulets on the table. “How long since ye worked on those?”

 

“A long time,” she said softly, adding the years in her head. “Nearly eight years.”

 

His eyes widened “That long? I have tae say I'm impressed. Traces of yer magic linger on them still, even after all that time—and they're not even completed. Oh, yes, ye'll do, Miss Hermione Granger. Ye'll do just fine.”

 

After dinner that evening Wynnie got Hermione settled in the cottage. It consisted of one big open room, aside from the small loo which had a toilet, sink, and a tiny shower. There would definitely be no joint showers with Severus in there. She doubted they could both manage to fit into it at the same time without getting wedged in so tightly they'd be stuck.

 

She bounced on the edge of the bed to test it and found it comfortable. It was set up in one corner, separated from the rest of the room by only a thin partition. The main area was open with a sitting area on one side and a dining area on the other.

 

The sitting area was complete with a love seat, one chair with a matching ottoman, a couple of end tables and a floor lamp. Out of curiosity, Hermione climbed the ladder on one side to peek at the open loft that sat over the rear half of the cottage. Two single beds, a set of bunk beds against the back wall, and a crib in the corner—they were prepared for extra guests of all sizes.

 

Wynnie hadn't been kidding when she called it the wee cottage. Everything was tiny. But Hermione found it charming and cozy, and for the short time she would be here it would be most comfortable.

 

The best feature to her right now was the fireplace. Wynnie had proudly pointed out that it was connected to the Floo network, and while not equipped for Floo travel, it offered a quick option for communication. Hermione was able to put through a Floo-call to the dower house, and she was so happy to hear Severus' voice she found her eyes tearing up. Gods, how ridiculous, she'd only been gone for two days. She hurriedly brought him up to date on her visit with Luna and Blaise, her arrival at the McGonagalls', and all about Liam MacDougal.

 

“... and then he told me to give him my hands. He made me put my palms flat on his and told me to close my eyes and he just sat there for several minutes. I have no idea what that was all about,” she finished.

 

“He was feeling your magic. I don't know how it's done but I've heard of it. It has something to do with auras or chakras and the meridians of your body.”

 

“That makes sense, I guess, because at one point he said he 'couldn't read me' because I was too tense. He made me do some deep breathing to relax.”

 

“What did he say when he was done?”

 

“He said 'You'll do' and later that there was very powerful magic in me.”

 

Severus snorted. “He's right, but then anyone who knows anything at all about you knows that, without needing to 'read' you. Still, he sounds like an impressive wizard. I'm looking forward to meeting him.”

 

Hermione blushed at Severus' compliment and was glad it didn't show through the Floo. “I'm looking forward to you being here, too. I miss you.”

 

“The potion will be complete by mid-morning and I should be able leave here by noon at the very latest. So I will be there with you tomorrow afternoon.”

 

She knew it was silly, but she felt sad that he hadn't seemed to miss her at all. How stupid she was to feel that way; she hadn't been gone that long, for goddess' sake. “Well, it's been a very long day for me, and I'm sure you need your sleep as well. So I'll say goodnight, Severus.”

 

“Goodnight, Hermione.”

 

Just as she was about to close the Floo, he called out, “Hermione, wait.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I... I just wanted to say that I wish... I wish you were here.”

 

She couldn't help but smile at his reluctant admission. “I wish I were too Severus. See you tomorrow.”

 

She still had that smile on her face as she drifted off to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Right after breakfast the next morning Hermione met with Mr MacDougal in the parlor. “First off, tell me about this friend of yers and what her problem is.”

 

Hermione told him what had happened to Luna, about the spell she'd been working on, what it was supposed to do and what had happened in the end. She explained her idea of making something that would cloak the effects of the rogue spell and allow Luna to regain use of her magic.

 

When she asked him if he thought it could work, he thought hard for a few moments, and in the end his response was much as Severus' had been: he couldn't be sure that it would work, but it seemed worth a try.

 

He spent the rest of the morning explaining the importance of the choices: the materials and methods for making the talisman itself, the different signs and runes to engrave upon it, and most of all the spells used to charge the power into it. There were so many options, Hermione had no idea how she would make the right choices.

 

Liam took her back to his study to show her a 'wee book or two' he had on the subject. He explained that when he'd come to live with his daughter and son-in-law, they'd converted two adjoining rooms for his use. The smaller one was his bedchamber, but he'd made the larger one into his study.

 

When she walked through the door, Hermione gasped in awe. It reminded her a little of Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, it was so filled with stuff. The 'wee book or two' turned out to be shelves all around the room, crammed full to overflowing. There were books and journals, parchments and notes, artifacts, boxes of gems, stones, crystals, tools for etching and much more. The magic in the room was palpable. She slowly wandered around, stopping here and there: to poke her finger into a box of gems, to pick up a jar full of stones and study them from all angles, to trace the tips of her fingers over the spines of books, and along rolled up parchments.

 

Hermione looked back to see Liam leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a huge grin on his face, his eyes aglow. “Ye can feel it can't ye, girlie? There's a flame inside ye burstin' to get out,” He tapped his chest. “A hunger fer the knowledge. A desire to learn, a burnin' need to know everything there is to know about it all.”

 

She nodded eagerly. “Yes!”

 

Liam stepped through the doorway and sank into a chair. He looked up at her with a strange expression, sort of a combination of joy and disbelief. “I dinna think this day would ever come. Do ye know how long I've waited for this?”

 

His eyes were shiny with tears.

 

Confused, Hermione shook her head. She didn't know quite what to do.

 

“I've been waiting fer ye, Hermione Granger, for half my life, or more. I thought no one would ever care. I thought everything I know would all be lost, all that I'd learned, from my mam, and my granddad, aunties and uncles, so much knowledge of the old magic. I thought it would surely die with me and be gone forever.” The old man choked back a sob as he pulled a hankie from his pocket and mopped at his eyes before loudly blowing his nose.

 

“Liam, I... I'm sorry. I don't understand what you mean.”

 

“Fer years I've been wantin' to pass the knowledge of my craft down tae someone. But there was no one. None of my children, or grandchildren, or great grandchildren, nor nieces nor nephews, not one of any of 'em cared about it. Not a one showed the slightest inclination nor the aptitude to learn the craft. Not until ye showed up on my doorstep, girlie.”

 

Hermione knelt next to his chair, patting his shoulder, trying to comfort the old wizard. “Liam, I'm very flattered, I really am. And I am interested in learning from you. But I already have a job I love very much. I'm a librarian and a damn good one.”

 

He snorted in amusement. “An' that's all fine and well. An' ye can keep playing with yer wee books all ye want. As ye say, it's yer job, so it puts food on yer table and clothes on yer back, an lucky fer you, ye like doing it. But this... what's in here,” he gestured around the room, then pointed to his temple. “This is yer callin', and ye won't be able to deny it. It's that fire in here...” he tapped his finger against her breastbone. “And here..” he touched her temple. “It's something ye need deep down, clear to the very bottom of yer soul. Do ye ken?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded in agreement.

 

“Achh... good,” he said, then dismissed her with a wave of his hand and a sigh. He suddenly looked drained. “Now off... shoo... away with ye, girlie. Ye've worn this ol' man out, ye have. We'll talk some more later, after my nap. Go off and meet that young lad of yers, an' do whatever it is ye young folks do nowadays.”

 

~*~

 

Hermione Apparated to a private spot near the ferry docks and walked to the platform to wait for the boat's arrival. Knowing his reserved nature, she was totally unprepared for Severus' greeting. Ignoring the crowds of Muggles teeming all around them, he stopped right in the middle of the walkway to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her so soundly her toes curled. Even after her feet returned to the ground he continued to hold her tightly until they were jostled by an older lady with her arms full of bags.

 

“Ooops, sorry,” the lady apologized, then she added with a smile. “By the heat of that greeting, I'm guessing that you two must have been apart for a good long while.”

 

Hermione felt her cheeks flush as she replied softly, “Nearly three days.”

 

“Oh my lord!” The woman laughed and rolled her eyes. “You two have it bad, don't you, dearie? Well, good luck to you,” she called as she walked away.

 

Severus and Hermione walked away together arm in arm, waiting for the crowds to thin so they could find a private spot to Apparate. While they walked, she told him about her morning with Liam.

 

When they finally found a quiet place. Hermione turned to Severus “Have you eaten? Do you want me to take us to the cafe in town first, or straight to the cottage?”

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked. He nuzzled her hair lightly as he wrapped an arm around her in preparation for her to take him side-along.

 

“Not for food,” she whispered with a naughty smile.

 

“Cottage, then. Definitely the cottage.”

 

Somehow she managed to land them right in the middle of the bed.

 

“Oh, you're good,” he murmured, taking a quick glance around.

 

Hermione shimmied down the bed and started working at his belt. “You think that was good? You haven't seen anything yet.”

 

~*~

 

 

After dinner, Liam invited them to his study so the three of them could talk privately. As soon as they entered the room, Hermione turned to Severus with a grin. “Isn't it amazing?”

 

He looked around the room. It looked very cluttered, and messy. He really couldn't understand what Hermione was so excited about. He gave her a puzzled look and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Are you kidding? You can't feel the magic in here? The room is practically pulsating with it. It's so strong—you must feel something. Go ahead, walk around the room. You'll feel it, I know you will.”

 

He did as she asked, but even after he'd made a circuit of the room he didn't feel anything. He shrugged again and shook his head. Hermione looked so disappointed he offered, “Maybe there is a slight hum.”

 

“Don't say things you don't mean just to placate me,” she grumbled, her lips pressed together in a pout.

 

“There, there, girlie. Don't take it so hard,” said Liam. “It's not the same fer everyone. Ye're feelin' the power of it all, the stones, gems, crystals, the books with old runes and spells. That particular magic calls to ye like it does to me. It touches us in ways it doesn't touch other folks.”

 

“Wait, I think I understand what you're saying,” said Severus, a touch of excitement in his voice. “What you describe, that's what it feels like to me in my potions lab. When there are potions brewing I can feel it. The moisture lies heavy and thick in the air, and I can hear the soft pop as the brews bubble, their essence scenting the air.” Severus paused to take a deep breath, as if he could actually smell the scent of simmering potions wafting to him. “I can literally feel the magic then. It's very powerful. And it's even stronger when I go into my potions stores. All those ingredients there, just waiting. There are so many different ways to combine them, to use them. The possibilities are infinite.”

 

“There, ye see, girl? Yer lad does understand. It's just that his magic calls to him from a different direction than ours. We're all not wired the same, don't ye see? But that's a good thing, because we all wouldn't want to be alike. His fire burns in there...” Liam leaned forward to tap Severus' chest, “... just as strong as yers does, it just burns fer a different purpose, a different path of magic. I had a feelin' about him, the minute I laid eyes on him.”

 

Liam sat down and pointed at another chair. “Sit here lad, and gimme your hands.”

 

Severus nearly snorted every time the old man called him lad, but he decided to ignore the old wizard's idiosyncrasies. He supposed if one lived to be a hundred and forty six one ought to be allowed to call anyone under the age of eighty 'lad'. Severus realized what Liam was up to from Hermione's description so he pulled the chair close and offered the wizard his hands.

 

“Close yer eyes now and relax.”

 

Severus obeyed and in just a moment the old man pulled back. “I knew it!” he crowed, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

 

“What? What is it?” asked Hermione.

 

“His magic is very, very strong. One of the most powerful I've ever felt.”

 

“Oh.” Hermione sounded almost disappointed. “Well, I already knew that. Severus has the strongest magic of any wizard I've ever known.”

 

“Oh, but girlie, that's goin' to make yer job so much easier, don't ye see?”

 

Severus didn't understand, and when he looked at Hermione he could tell she didn't either. “I'm sorry, Liam, but I don't think either of us understands.”

 

Liam frowned. “Let's do a wee experiment. Pull a chair up here, right next to yer lad. Right close.” Hermione summoned a chair from across the room. “Severus, which is yer wand hand?”

 

Severus raised his right hand. “This one.”

 

Liam motioned to Hermione to place her chair on Severus' right side. He then had them rest their arms relaxed on the arms of the chairs, but touching each other all along the length of their arms, then he put their hands together. Then sitting down directly in front of them, Liam placed their other palms one on each of his hands, flat against his.

 

“Now close yer eyes and relax, like before.” In less than a minute he dropped their hands and jumped to his feet, practically doing a jig. “Glory be, the two of ye combined—it's even stronger than I expected.”

 

Before either of them could speak, he commenced barking more orders. “Wait. That's only the first part of the experiment. Turn yer chairs and face each other, real close now. Put yer hands like ye did with me. Now, I want ye both to close yer eyes and relax again. Don't try to figure it all out, just let yer magic flow naturally.”

 

Severus followed his instructions and immediately he could feel the magical energy flowing between himself and Hermione. It was warm and enticing, and it sent lovely little tingles of sensation racing through his body. Tingles in fact that quickly translated into a very different kind of energy altogether. He was embarrassed to feel himself harden.

 

He opened his eyes and pulled his hands away from hers to cross them casually over his lap in an attempt to conceal his erection. Glancing at Hermione, he noticed her lips were parted and her breathing had quickened, her pupils were dilated. His gaze slid down and caught sight of the tight nubs of her nipples, puckered hard and jutting against her tee shirt. At least he wasn't the only one affected.

 

Liam clapped his hands together in excitement and cackled with glee. “I haven't seen such a match in years, probably not since my own dear Lizzetta, rest her soul. Girlie, yer lad here is the answer to all yer prayers.”

 

Hermione smiled and scooted her chair back from in front of Severus around to sit next to him. “Well, I think you might be right about that, Liam. But I don't see what that has to do with the making of the talisman.”

 

“Are ye daft, girl?” Liam smacked his hand lightly against her forehead. With a sigh he sat down again. “Remember what we talked about earlier? The makin' of the talisman's not the hardest part. Oh, yes, it's important to make the right choices in the materials, the symbol or the runes, what spells to use. I can help ye figure out all that. But the hard part is charging the talisman with yer magic. It has to be very strong so it holds the spells and everything together, so it does it what ye meant fer it to do.”

 

“But how is Severus important in all this?”

 

Liam grimaced and Severus recognized the look from his teaching days: when you were trying so to hard to get an idea across but your student just wasn't grasping it. “Remember when I told ye, that I can'na do the work anymore because it takes a lot of magic?”

 

Hermione nodded.

 

“Well, it's not jus' a bit tiring, it can drain ye, weaken yer magic altogether if ye don't do it right. It can be dangerous to the witch or wizard chargin' the talisman. Even more so if the intended recipient is someone dear to ye, because then ye tend to push yer magic to extremes. Ye want it to be so strong that ye push too hard.”

 

Severus straightened, knowing how much she cared for Luna, this sounded too dangerous. “Wait a minute. I know Hermione wants to help her friend, but if there is a chance of bringing harm to herself then this is not right choice. We will find another way.”

 

“Arrgh!” growled Liam. “Don't ye see, that's what I'm tryin' to say: with yer help that'll never happen. Because the two of ye will charge the talisman together, with your magic combined.”

 

“But, Liam, you said yourself that Severus' calling is not in this field. His 'fire'...” she emphasized her point here, with little air quotes, “is in his love of potions.”

 

“But ye don't need him for the _makin'_ of the talisman, or even the castin' of the spells!” the old man practically shouted in his frustration at not being able to make her understand. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Don't ye see what I'm sayin', darlin' girl? You only need yer lad to share his magic, his energy, with ye while yer doin' the chargin'. It's as simple as that. He's sorta' yer extra power source.”

 

Hermione looked at Severus. “So... Severus would be my back-up battery?”

 

Severus frowned at that analogy.

 

“Exactly!” crowed Liam. “Thas' it exactly.”

 

Severus' brow furrowed. “How does that work? How exactly does one go about sharing magic?”

 

“It's been practiced fer centuries. It's some of the oldest, most powerful magic in the world.”

 

Severus and Hermione looked at each other blankly.

 

“I can't believe ye've never heard of Tantric Magic.”

 

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

 

The Librarian

 

Chapter 6

 

“Sex magic!” Lucius choked and sputtered, nearly snorting tea out of his nose. “You must be joking.” He paused and then focused on Severus and chuckled. “Oh, I see. That's it exactly, isn't it? Very funny, Severus, you almost had me that time. Ha ha ha!”

 

Severus smirked. “I'm being completely serious. According to MacDougal, using Tantric methods aren't necessarily a required component of charging a talisman, but it is an efficient way to raise the high levels of magical energy needed. Safer for Hermione, or else she could risk a drain of her own magic. ”

 

“Dear Merlin, he sounds quite mad. You didn't leave Hermione there with that lecherous old coot, did you?” Lucius sounded worried.

 

Hermione walked into the dining room to join them for lunch. Passing behind Lucius' chair, she paused to teasingly tug the neat blond queue tied back with a leather thong. “Goodness, Lucius, you almost sounded concerned about me for a moment.”

 

Severus smiled as he'd been the one to tell her that Lucius was very twitchy about anyone touching his hair. She did it often now to just to irritate him.

 

Lucius lightly smacked her hand in retribution. “Well, truth be told, I was more worried for my own sanity, love. You have no idea what a burden it was to try to keep Severus' spirits up when you were gone for just a couple days. The poor boy was practically desolate without you.”

 

“Hm... Yes, I'm sure,” commented Hermione. “And by the way, Lucius, Liam is not a lech. He's a highly respected wizard who's an expert in the crafting of talismans and amulets.”

 

Lucius huffed. “Really my dear, how highly respected can he be if he is feeding you fairy stories about Tantric magic?”

 

“Fairy stories?” Hermione said coldly, clearly not appreciating Lucius denigrating her mentor.

 

“Everyone knows all those old stories about sex magic are merely a myth.”

 

Hermione moved to Severus' chair and bent to brush a kiss on his cheek before sitting next to him. “You mean you didn't tell him?”

 

“No. I didn't think you'd want me sharing the intimate details.”

 

Lucius paused, straightening in his chair. He looked from one to the other. “What are you two talking about? What details?”

 

Ignoring him, she addressed Severus. “I didn't expect that you'd tell him specifics. But I thought guys liked to brag about their accomplishments—in general terms of course, nothing too detailed. You know like the number of times of you made me...” Hermione's face took on a rosy tint. “Well, I think it was three last night.”

 

Lucius' eyes popped open wide, and darted back and forth between them.

 

Severus chuckled, dark and dirty. “Three! Don't fib, sweet. It was five, at least.”

 

She leaned forward and in a hushed voice clarified, “I meant the three right together. You know, as in multiples, the others were extra.”

 

Taking Hermione's hand in his, Severus turned it palm up. He pressed a kiss to her wrist just over her pulse point, causing her eyelids to flutter. He turned to Lucius. “We can assure you, Tantric magic is not a myth.”

 

“Oh, definitely not,” Hermione agreed emphatically.

 

Lucius gulped. “So you two have...?”

 

“We have... um... begun to study the method,” offered Hermione.

 

Severus smirked. “It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”

 

“Well if you find the project too objectionable, old boy,” Lucius taunted with a leer in Hermione's direction, “I'm more than happy to step in and volunteer my services. I wouldn't mind a few lessons myself. ”

 

Severus shot him an icy glare which Lucius ignored. “In fact, it would be my pleasure to lend a hand or any other parts Hermione might want the use of. I'd be ecstatic to spend time with your lovely librarian, working on extra-curricular projects.” Lucius waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

With low growl, Severus was on his feet his wand inching its way into his hand, a hex on the verge of his lips.

 

Hermione just as quickly had her hand on his wrist. “Severus, stop. He's pushing your buttons.” Turning to Lucius, she scolded, “And you should know better than to tease him like that. One day you'll regret it when you push him too far.”

 

Severus sat back down, saying nothing for a moment. Truthfully, he'd been surprised by his own reaction. At Lucius' comments, he'd felt a surge of possessiveness so strong, he'd wanted to blast his friend across the room.

 

Eyes downcast, looking guilty, Lucius cleared his throat. “Hermione was quite right. I was teasing you, and it was clearly in an inappropriate manner. I apologize, I honestly meant no harm.”

 

“It's possible that I may have over-reacted.” Severus was quickly learning that when it came to Hermione, he was not nearly as tolerant of Lucius' juvenile sense of humor as he used to be.

 

Hermione spoke up, breaking the tension. “I did want to ask for your assistance, Lucius.”

 

“Of course. How may I help, my dear?”

 

“I was wondering if your library might contain information on the subject of Tantric magic. Liam was able to provide us with a couple of books. Apparently, over the past century or so the magical world, at least here in western Europe, has discounted the practice entirely. From what I can tell, much of the information they did have was eradicated.” Hermione frowned, clearly appalled at the possibility of books having been destroyed.

 

“My theory is the Victorian era,” Severus offered. “The magical world is more affected by Muggle influence than they will readily admit. The idea of sex magic would definitely have been looked down upon most harshly at that time. ”

 

“You might be onto something. Hm... I wonder,” Lucius paused, rubbing his chin as he pondered.

 

“What is it?” asked Hermione, hopefully.

 

“I do recall an incident right after my grandfather died, I was quite young at the time. My grandmother had been going through his personal study and was scandalized by some of his books, so much so that she told my father to burn them. However, I remember him ordering the house-elves to store them in the attic instead.” Lucius shrugged. “It might be nothing, but I'll check when I go home.”

 

~*~

 

The next day Lucius entered Hermione's office, levitating a heavy box of books before him.

 

“You found something!” She was unable to hold back her pleased smile.

 

“I did. I didn't go through them all so I'm not sure if it's what you had in mind. I'm certain that these are the books that so offended dear grandmama.”

 

Hermione opened the box and she and Lucius began pulling books out and stacking them on her desk.

When they were done sorting through them, they had found five books devoted solely to the subject of Tantric magic and four other books that contained one or more chapters on the topic. There was a good amount of information here to fuel their studies.

 

Glancing through the remainder of the books, Hermione picked up one large thin volume.“The rest of these appear to be wizard erotica, and while interesting, not really what I was seeking for our research.”

 

Lucius noted with a smile that although it wasn't what she'd been looking for, she continued to leisurely leaf through the volume which contained detailed illustrations.

 

“Oh my.” Hermione tilted the book first one way then the other. “Is that... is that even possible? Physically, I mean.”

 

Lucius looked over her shoulder at a picture that depicted a witch being pleasured by two wizards at once. He cleared his throat delicately before he replied. “Yes... Yes, it is.”

 

Hermione looked over her shoulder at Lucius, eyes wide.

 

His gaze did not meet hers, but he nodded slightly. Then, running a finger under the edge of his collar, as if it were suddenly too tight, he said, “I'm going down to see Severus for a bit. I assume he's in his lab?” Without waiting for a reply he headed for the door. “Keep the books as long as you need. There's no rush.”

~*~

 

“Severus?” Hermione had checked his lab, and all around the house and finally realized he might be gathering potions ingredients so she decided to look outside. She found him sitting in the gazebo, an empty basket next to him. “Hey, I've been looking all over for you.”

 

“I came out to gather some herbs, but got distracted. Thinking.”

 

Hermione looked closely at him. He seemed to be in an odd mood—pensive. “Are you all right?”

 

He glanced up, and gave her a sorry hint of what was supposed to be a smile. “I'm sorry, this is always a difficult time of year for me no matter how hard I try to ignore it.”

 

_Halloween._ Why hadn't she realized? She'd blathered on for weeks about using Halloween, for doing the charging—until Liam had vetoed the idea. It was too soon; he'd said she needed more time to create the talisman and for she and Severus prepare. They'd settled instead on the winter solstice. Liam had approved as he said it represented the end of the cycle of darkness and a new beginning, which is what she hoped her gift would bring for Luna. 

 

She hadn't even considered how Halloween might affect Severus. And now it was only a couple of days away. Gods, she was such a thoughtless cow. “You shouldn't have to ignore your feelings. I'm sorry, it was very thoughtless of me. I didn't even think about how difficult Halloween is for you. It's good that Liam convinced me to wait for Yule.”

 

Severus held out his hand. “Come sit with me.” When she took his hand he pulled her onto his lap.

 

“I want you to understand, it's not that I still love Lily. Looking back now, that seems like more of a teenage infatuation gone wrong.” As he spoke, Severus' thumb rubbed idly over the back of her hand. “Upon reflection, however, I think that her rejection of me was inevitable—not just because of my actions when I called her that horrible name, but because deep down we weren't really suited. I'd managed to convince myself that if not for Potter she would have chosen me. But now, I don't think that's true. After she died, I was never able to get over the guilt.”

 

“Oh, Severus.” Hermione wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair and murmuring words of comfort. Her heart ached for him. Then an idea began to take shape. She had the perfect amulet for Severus, it was one she'd made for herself years ago. She could renew and strengthen the spells on it. She would find it and give it to him as a gift.

 

After a bit, they got up and walked back to the house. Halfway there Severus stopped and turned to ask her, “Earlier you said you were looking for me. Was there something...?”

 

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” she said, grabbing his arm in excitement. “That's why I came to find you. I know now where we have to go to charge the talisman. Liam suggested someplace significant to me. And he said it's not integral to the process, but if the location has a connection to old magic it can increase the energy.”

 

“Stonehenge is right here in Wiltshire, or there's Avebury,” offered Severus. “Surely some of the best known and oldest of such places in the world.”

 

“You're right, they are, but they're not my spot.” Hermione stopped on the stone stairs leading into the house, one step up from Severus. She rested her hands on his shoulders and looked into his face. “Remember a while back when we talked about coincidences?”

 

“Yes, it was when you'd returned from your trip to visit Miss Lovegood.” Severus said, wrapping his arms around her. “I said that true coincidence is very rare.”

 

“Yes, and do you also recall the two stone circles that Luna and I visited? The Ring of Brodgar and the Stenness Stone Circle?” He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Well, in my reading today I discovered that in older times they were known by different names.”

 

“And I suppose you are going to tell me their significance?” he prompted her teasingly.

 

“I shall indeed. The Ring of Brodgar was once called the Temple of the Sun.” She bounced on her toes, barely able to conceal her excitement. “And the Stenness Stone Circle was called the Temple of the Moon. Severus, the moon—Luna! Coincidence?”

 

“It does seem unlikely.”

 

“And that gave me another idea, so I looked up the qualities of moonstone.”

 

“Of course you did. And what did you find, my lovely little swot?” He nuzzled at her neck.

 

“Lots of stuff, but the thing I found most useful is that moonstone is a powerful filter stone. Filters attract positive energy flow and keep negative energy away _and_ they also work to keep things from sapping our energy. What is our magic if not a sort of energy? I'm definitely going to incorporate moonstone as one of the crystals I use.”

 

Still holding her snugly, he gave her a kiss. “You are a genius, my dearest.”

 

“No, I'm not. But I am a damn good researcher.” Hermione grabbed his hand to lead him into the house.

 

~*~

 

On Halloween morning, Hermione set a small black pouch next to Severus' breakfast plate.

 

“What is this?” asked Severus picking it up, his brow furrowed.

 

“It's a gift for you.”

 

“A gift?” He looked suspicious. “Why? It isn't my birthday.”

 

Hermione felt nervous. What if he thought she was interfering, or that she knew better than he how to deal with his own feelings? Too late to worry about that now, she swallowed hard and forged ahead. “I thought of it when we were talking about Halloween a couple of days ago. It's one of the amulets I made for myself years ago. It didn't work all that well for me, but I thought it might be helpful for you. I've renewed and strengthened the spells I cast originally and added a couple more.”

 

She twisted her hands together nervously. “Go ahead, open it.”

 

Severus didn't move; he just held the pouch in his hand staring at it. She gnawed at her bottom lip, positive now that this had been a horrible idea. She stepped forward, reaching for it. “I'm really sorry, it was a silly thought. Here, I'll take it back and get rid of it.” She grabbed it and pulled, but Severus wouldn't let go and for a moment there was an awkward tug of war over the blasted thing. “Severus, please, I didn't mean any harm. I should have realized that it was a stupid idea, really just let me have it.”

 

He stood and she tried to pull it away once more but he pulled it back, jerking her to him. He wrapped his arms so tightly around her that she feared her ribs might crack. His face was buried in her hair and she could barely hear his whispered, “Thank you.”

 

“Y... you're welcome.” She hugged him tightly in return. “You know it might not even work. I mean I hope it helps, but these things are sort of iffy.”

 

He pulled away from her and stared back down at the pouch still in his hand. “I doesn't matter if it works or not, it's the fact that you wanted to do something for me, to try to help me. That you would care about me enough to go to the trouble...”

 

Hermione reached up and cupped his face in her hands forcing him to look at her. “Severus, of course I'd do anything I could to help you—anything. And I do care about you, I care deeply. I... I love you.” Severus' eyes went wide with shock; his mouth opened slightly but no words emerged. Clearly he'd been struck dumb by her revelation.

 

She smiled up at him. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just blurted it out like that. But the truth is, it's how I feel, and I'm not sorry about that at all. I love you, Severus Snape, very much. Please don't worry, I know you don't feel the same way, and I don't expect it. But it doesn't change how I feel.”

 

In the next instant she found herself wrapped in another bone-crushing hug. “I love you too.” The words were whispered against her hair again, the four most beautiful words she'd ever heard.

 

A moment later he dropped down into his chair as if his legs would no longer hold him. He'd pulled Hermione down onto his lap, and his arms wrapped around her as though he'd never let go. Tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks, while Severus took several deep breaths as if he'd like to cry happy tears too, but was too much of a manly wizard to allow such a thing to happen.

 

She was worried that he'd said it out of obligation. “Severus, that means a lot to me, but I don't want you to feel pressured to say the words back to me. I still love you no matter what.”

 

Finally he regained control of himself and managed to brush her tears aside with his thumbs. “I say the words because they are true. I do love you. I've known it for a while. I was afraid to tell you, though, afraid to take the risk, afraid you wouldn't feel the same. I was being a coward.”

 

“Hey!” She bunched his shirtfront in her fists. “Don't call my wizard a coward. He's the bravest man I've ever known.” She kissed him hard. When he tried to caress her face, the pouch, the loop of which was still attached to his finger, bopped her on the nose.

 

She grabbed it out of his hand. “It's about time you opened the blasted thing.”

 

Loosening the drawstring he shook the amulet onto the table: a black stone with a few thin striations of silvery grey, attached to a black braided cord. Severus smiled. “How did you ever guess? It's my favorite color.” He examined it closely, then looked up at Hermione. “It's some type of obsidian, isn't it?”

 

“Yes, it's called apache tears, or perhaps one would be an apache tear. They're found in the American southwest and parts of Mexico.”

 

Severus held it up by the cord to examine it in the light, then placed it in his palm and just held it there. “And what are its qualities?”

 

“It's known for relieving grief and sadness, repelling negative energy, and removing emotional barriers. It's also said to promote forgiveness and protection.” Hermione shrugged, “It's a little late to be of much use to you this year. But in the future, when you start feeling sad or melancholy in the days leading up to Halloween, you could wear it around your neck or just carry it in your pocket if you wanted to.”

 

Severus tucked it into the inside front pocket of his robe. “Thank you again.” He smiled at her as he drew her to him for a kiss.

 

~*~

 

After Halloween, time seemed to fly too quickly. Before they knew it the winter solstice was just a few short days away. They'd traveled to Stenness where Liam had offered them the use of his former home, a cottage outside of town and not far from the standing stones.

 

With the date and place decided, they needed to plan the final logistics. As Orkney lay on latitude 59 degrees north, the day of the winter solstice would provide only about six hours of sunlight and the weather would be cold. 

 

“Severus, even with warming charms, being naked on the cold, damp ground is not my idea of a good time and it certainly can't be conducive to successful sex magic,” Hermione complained.

 

“I'm sure we can come up with something.” Severus thought for a moment, then spun around. “I know, we'll use a tent. We can set it up as close to the standing stones as you want, even inside the circle if you choose. And with it warded and disillusioned there's no chance of it being seen by Muggles.”

 

Hermione gave him a murderous look. “You do realize that you're talking to the witch who spent nearly a year traipsing around England in the worst possible conditions, living in a tent, picking up after two teenage boys and a never ending pile of stinky socks. I swore that I would never, ever set foot in another tent again under any circumstances!”

 

She'd been acting quite the bitch all morning, so Severus graced her with a nasty smile.“Well then, it seems that fate is about to make a liar out of you.” When he turned, though, one look was his undoing. Her face crumpled in despair and her bottom lip began to tremble. “No! Don't you dare cry. There is no crying allowed.”

 

Hermione sniffled loudly. “I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. We're never going to be able to make this work.”

 

With three strides he had her tight in his embrace. “It _is_ a good idea, and we are going to make it work. Do you know why?” Her face was buried against his chest as she shook her head. “It's going to work because you, my darling girl, are the most brilliant witch I've ever known.”

 

“Oh, Severus.” She snuffled some more. “What if, after all this, it doesn't help Luna at all?  
  


“Even if that happens—and I don't believe that it will—then at least you will know that you've done everything you could to help your friend. And even more important, Luna and Blaise will know it too.”

 

That was all it took to set her off and she sobbed in his arms as he swayed gently, comforting her like a child. “Shh... it's all right, love. I changed my mind, you go ahead and cry all you want. Get it all out. You're stressed and you're worried and you've been pushing yourself too hard. It's all come to a head.”

 

When her sobs subsided, he pushed her back, offering her a hankie. “Everything will be fine. I'll take care of the tent. It's the most practical solution and even you must admit that wizarding tents can be quite comfortable, even luxurious. It's only for one night and I promise I will make sure it's perfect.”

 

Hermione nodded, wiping her face. “Perfect means no stinky socks, right?” she said with a weak smile. Then she dipped her head and mumbled roughly, “Thank you for putting up with my madness. I'm sorry for the melt-down. I guess I was more stressed than I realized.”

 

Severus led her to the sofa by the fireplace. “Sit. I’ll make some tea – you could use a cuppa.” When he returned Hermione was holding the talisman she'd designed for Luna. True, she'd had Liam's guidance, but the final decisions were hers. She'd incorporated moonstone, quartz, and amethyst with protective and strengthening runes and symbols engraved on the back..

 

Severus set her tea in front of her and took the pendant. Sitting next to her he examined it. The finished piece was a large oval, over two inches long and an inch and a half wide. The stones were set in silver with Celtic style swirls wrapped around them. It was beautiful. “If the talisman making doesn't work out, you could still make a fortune designing jewelry. There isn't a witch alive who wouldn't treasure this.”

 

Hermione smiled wanly and sipped her tea. Setting the pendant down next to the tea pot, Severus tipped her face to look at him. “I want you to finish your tea and then go rest. While you're napping I'll take care of the tent.” She opened her mouth to speak but he put his finger against her lips. “I promise you won't be disappointed.”

 

After kissing the tip of his finger she said, “I was just going to say that I trust you, and thanks for taking care of me. I'm so used to being the one taking care of other people, I guess I just don't see it when I need some care myself.”

 

~*~

 

Hermione watched as Severus lit the red candles all around the bedchamber of the tent. He'd kept his promise and it was perfect. He'd made the room look like something out of the Arabian Nights. The huge bed was covered with colorful pillows in of all shapes and sizes. Gauzy silk drapes and swags hung from the ceiling around the bed tied back with satin ribbons. The room was heated both by warming spells and a of couple small portable fire places. The entire space was now was lit by the gentle glow of candlelight and the combined scents of vanilla, ginger and ylang ylang filled the air.

 

Hermione fussed with the belt of her robe. She'd picked a deep, rich red for her robe, symbolic of passion, desire, love, and energy. Severus had chosen black. She couldn't help but smile to herself—typical Severus, however an appropriate choice as black was a symbol of elegance, power, strength, and authority. They'd donned the robes and nothing else after they'd separately completed spiritual cleansing baths with scented salts and oils.

 

Severus had finished with the candles and now stood before her. “I think everything is ready. How do you feel?”

 

“I'm excited—nervous. I'm not so sure that staying celibate for several days to build the sexual energy was such a good idea.”

 

Severus smiled at her quizzically. “And why is that?”

 

“Because if you so much as breathe on me I'm going to go off like a rocket.” Severus chuckled at her admission. Taking a deep breath, she smiled up at him. “How about you, how are you feeling?”

 

“Like you, I am excited and definitely aroused.” He took her hand and pressed it to the front of his robes so she could feel his erection. “But surprisingly not nervous at all. I feel exhilarated, as if I could take on the entire world.” He cupped her face in his hands and drew her to him for a kiss.

 

Reminiscent of their first kiss it started slow and built to a crescendo. During the course of this, Hermione managed to slip loose a button or two on his robe to reach in and caress his cock in her hand. He felt hard, yet the skin was silky soft. She dropped gracefully to her knees before him, cupping his balls in her hand to roll them between her fingers and tug just a little roughly, as she knew he liked. This was confirmed by his quick intake of breath and a softly whispered, “Yesss... oh yes.”

 

She wet his cock with long slow licks and kisses up and down it's length. Her fingers circled the base and she pumped slowly as she sucked the tip into her mouth to swirl her tongue around the head. His responding groan incited her to slide him even further between her lips, sucking as she pulled nearly all the way off, then slid forward, going a little farther each time.

 

Hermione tossed her hair back with a flick of her head and looked up, and their eyes locked. He reached for her, first caressing her face before threading his fingers through her hair. He held her where he wanted her, taking control, he pushed forward, each thrust bringing him a little deeper into her hot slick mouth. He didn't force himself on her so much as hold her in place. In that moment, Hermione should have felt controlled, but instead felt a profound sense of power. She hummed against his hard flesh and Severus' eyes practically rolled back in his head as he pulled off with a soft popping sound.

 

“Vixen! You do realize your goal is not to get me off as quickly as you can,” he panted. “You're killing me already, you little witch.”

 

“Brightest witch of the age, or so I've been told.” Hermione smiled up at him. “Just trying to build the sexual tension a bit, love. Is it working?”

 

“Only too well,” he growled as he reached to help her to her feet. He led her beside the bed where he untied her robe while she undid his and they laid them aside. He gathered her close and kissed her again before helping her onto the bed.

 

“I need some time to recover from your little game, so it's your turn to be the object of my attentions. I want to try some sensation play.” Severus ran a fingertip very lightly from her shoulder, down her arm, back up to trace across her collarbone then down around her naval and back up. “But if you get too close you must tell me, in case I'm too involved to notice. You're my focus and as such I want you to submit to my ministrations. Understood? ”

 

“Yes.” Her reply was a mere whisper. Dear goddess how was this going to work? Just having him trace a finger tip over her made her nipples draw up to hard little nubs and her pussy clench tightly.

 

Severus leaned over her. “Close your eyes.”

 

Hermione's brows drew downward. “Why?”

 

“I don't suppose you'd accept 'Because I say so?'” At the slight roll of her eyes he continued. “Because I want you aware of each touch, each sensation. Let it all wash over you. Let it stimulate you, arouse you. I want you to to feel it all.”

 

“All right.” Hermione closed her eyes and felt Severus shift next to her, then he gently kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her chin. His lips were on hers and she tried to kiss him back.

 

“Uh, uh, uh. Relax. Just feel.”

 

With a groan Hermione nodded and he continued. He brushed her hair behind her ear, and his tongue traced the shape of it, sliding around and down until he suckled her earlobe between his lips before releasing it with a slight nip. At her gasp he chuckled and even that sound drove her mad. He continued his descent and lightly kissed several spots along her neck, then sucked at the spot that never failed to drive her wild. She gave a tiny buck of her hips as she whimpered a bit. He stiffened beside her and that made her smile, knowing that her little involuntary sounds and movements affected him.

 

Severus pulled back a bit and she felt him reach across the bed to the night stand. He began to trace patterns over her naked body with something soft and flexible. She was torn between trying to figure out what he was using and whether his tracings were random movements or meant something. She finally decided it was a feather, a quill perhaps, but by that point she didn't care if the designs had any meaning. If he continued much longer, he would surely drive her mad. He traced it all over her, over her breasts, nipples, down her torso, around her naval, to her sides, down her legs to her feet and back up, purposely avoiding her now soaking pussy.

 

She squirmed around, moaning softly. Gods, she just wanted him to touch her there. Instead she felt him reach across to return the feather, and then his hands came back to her breasts. He squeezed them, plumped them, shaped them. Then his fingers pinched and twisted her nipples lightly at first and then with increasing pressure until it was on the edge of pain and yet somehow he made it feel good. He continued to toy with one nipple as his clever mouth found the other. His tongue lapped around it, licking and flicking at the tip as her wiggles and whimpers increased. Finally he closed his lips around it and suckled, occasionally he scraped it lightly with his teeth before sucking it hard again. It made her hips buck against the bed. He chuckled evilly, and moved to the other side to begin all over again.

 

By the time he'd finished his play with that breast she was squirming and pressing against him. “Be still,” he scolded. “Concentrate on the sensations.”

 

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to settle, making a conscious effort, but a sound escaped her lips that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “Hermione, open your eyes, sweetheart.” Severus pulled back to look down at her. “Are you all right.”

 

“I can't stand it. I want you to fuck me now!”

 

Severus' laugh was deep and throaty. “That's how you're supposed to feel, but we need to draw it out. That's the whole purpose, to build the energy slowly. I have so much more planned for you.”

 

She moaned helplessly. “I think you're too good at it. It's torture. I want you to keep touching me, but if you do I know that I'm going to explode.”

 

“Shh... come here.” He gathered her close. “Take a few deep breaths and relax. We'll just rest for a moment or two, then you can torture me again for awhile.”

 

She could feel the slickness dampening her thighs and Severus hadn't even touched her pussy. Well, she'd try her own version of sensation play, she'd show him torture. She poured a drizzle of massage oil onto her hands and then spread it over his back. Taking her time she slid her hands in rhythmic swirls and circles from the base of his spine all the way up to his shoulders and back down in light teasing strokes. She continued over his taut buttocks and hips, down his thighs and calves and ankles. “Turn over,” she whispered, and started all over on the starting from the soles of his feet and working her way back up.

 

They played back and forth for an hour or more, taking turns teasing and inciting each other to sensual heights, then backing off to let things cool down. It felt like it went on forever. Hermione was sure she was going to be driven slowly insane before the night was over.

 

“Can you feel it?” Severus voice was deep and husky, as he pulled away from her lips. “I can feel the energy, rising, thrumming between us. Like that time in Liam's office when he made us touch each other palm to palm to feel our magic.”

 

“Yes, I feel it too,” Hermione agreed, rubbing against him. “Only this is ten times stronger than that day.”

 

“I know.” His lips slid along her jaw line and down to hit the trigger spot on her neck where he paused to suckle, pulling a long moan from her. She rubbed against him, practically humping his thigh. “And I'm not even inside you yet. It'll be a miracle if we don't spontaneously combust. I want you now, Hermione.”

 

“Please,” Hermione begged. “I thought you'd never ask. I want you so much.”

 

Severus rolled onto his back and pulled Hermione on top to straddle him. He held his cock, sliding the tip through her wet slit, poised at her entrance, but he let her take control from there. She descended slowly, sliding down then pulling back up, inch by inch, taking him further in each time until he was seated fully inside of her. She gazed into his eyes and sighed happily. “Oh gods, finally. You feel so good.”

 

“You do too, but I know something that will feel even better—move.”

 

So the dance began. Slowly at first, in and out, the tempo increased gradually until they had almost reach the peak. But before they could tumble over, Severus pushed her back and pulled out. “We must try to prolong it, to ride the crest a bit more,” he murmured in answer to Hermione's disappointed groan.

 

Sliding from beneath her, he arranged her on her hands and knees and holding firmly onto her hips, in one swift thrust, he was buried inside. He started to build the rhythm all over again. Soon he was sliding over her G-spot on every hard thrust.

 

Hermione was trembling and again felt herself on the verge of orgasm when Severus pulled out and flipped her over onto her back to settled between her thighs.

 

“Damn it. Severus, No! No!” she shouted, pounding her fists against the bed in frustration.

 

He grabbed her hands and stretched them above her head, pinning them there with one hand as he hovered over her. “I know, sweet, I know. But the energy is high, so high. Can you feel it?” She nodded frantically. “I want to finish like this, so I can see your face and kiss you and tell you how much I love you.” As if to prove his point he leaned down to kiss her.

 

“I love you too,” she gasped when he pulled back. “So much. But if you stop again, I think I might kill you.”

 

With a grin he slid in to the hilt. “No stopping this time, I promise. We finish together. And remember our purpose—the ritual.” There was no slow, gradual build this time, Severus pounded into her in swift, sure strokes. He released his hold on her wrists, and bracing himself with one hand, he looped an elbow under her knee and pulled her leg up. The position opened her further and he slid even deeper. “Oh gods, yes.”

 

He was slamming into her, filling her, pushing her to the edge, closer and closer. “Oh please, oh please...” Hermione gasped, her breaths coming harsh and fast. “Severus... I'm so close... please... fuck, oh fuck!” She felt herself topple into the abyss, her orgasm took her. She thought she might have screamed but wasn't sure. As Severus came inside her with a loud guttural grunt she felt another orgasm roll through her, and even though she was sure he'd come, he kept thrusting, rough and deep and another shock wave hit. As hard as it was to concentrate, each time she tried to focus the energy she felt on Luna's talisman.

 

Hermione didn't know if she'd passed out or just collapsed from fatigue but when she came back to herself, she wasn't sure how much time had passed: seconds—minutes—more? It couldn't have been too long, though, because she felt Severus slip out of her. Instead of flopping down next to her as she'd expected, he proceeded to nip his way down her body. “Open for me,” he commanded, settling between her thighs.

 

“Severus, no. I can't possibly...”

 

“I think you'll find that you can, my dearest,” he insisted, ignoring her protests. “And you will,” He began to pet and play with her, his thumb circling her clit as he slipped first two then three fingers inside. He knew just the right spot and he rubbed against it over and over. He kissed and licked and tongued her and when her arousal rose to the peak he sucked her clit between his lips sending her over the top. Hermione soon discovered that Severus was right, she could and she did, again and again. She learned that you really can have too much of a good thing, and that Severus Snape was a man who took his Tantric Magic very seriously. By the time he'd finished, they collapsed into each others' arms totally exhausted.

 

~*~

 

Hermione wanted to give Luna the talisman as a Christmas gift, so she invited Luna and Blaise to celebrate Christmas Eve at the dower house. It was just supposed to be just the four of them: a nice quiet, intimate evening, but as things unfolded Hermione wondered if the magical world had anything like Murphy's law.

 

First Harry Floo-called, whining that he was going to be all alone. When Ron heard Harry was coming, he wanted in too, along with his new girlfriend Pansy Parkinson. Severus declared if _her_ dumb-arsed duo was coming he should be able to invite his as well, so Lucius and Draco were added to the list. Then Pansy asked if she could bring two friends, Millie and Gabrielle, who were alone for the holiday. It turned out that the girls also happened to be teammates of Harry's. Since Wynnie and Malcolm McGonagall had gone off to Italy to visit their daughter, Hermione ended up asking Mac and boys along with Liam, and of course that meant Minerva since she usually spent the holiday at her brother's home. So much for the quiet, intimate evening.

 

Considering it's impromptu nature, dinner for fourteen people—Mac's boys having chosen hang out in the kitchen with Snip—went quite well. Sated, they moved the party to the parlor for after dinner drinks and to exchange gifts and pleasantries.

 

Hermione, wanting to get Luna and Blaise alone, asked them to meet her in the Library. Catching Severus' eye, Hermione tipped her head toward the hallway. Severus extricated himself from a conversation with Liam and Lucius and slipped out of the room behind her..

 

He closed the door to the parlor and turned to Hermione. “Something you need, love?”

 

“I've asked Luna and Blaise to meet me in the library, I wanted to give her the Talisman privately. Since you played a huge part in making it, I'd like you to be there too. If you don't mind, that is.” Hermione fidgeted nervously, plucking at the cuff of her robe.

 

“Of course I don't mind.” Severus stepped close and tipped her chin up to look at him. “I want you to remember what I said back in Stenness. Whatever the results, Luna will appreciate all that you have tried to do.” Taking her hand, he drew her down the hall towards the library.

 

“Severus, your library is beautiful,” said Luna as they entered the room.

 

“Yes, the remodeling project turned out quite well,” added Blaise.

 

“Thank you. I am quite happy with it. Although,” he said with a nod toward Hermione.“I'm afraid that my librarian has her work cut out for her. There is still a great deal to be done.”

 

Luna nodded with a knowing smile. “I'm thinking that the Librarian will have to close her office in Thurso as I suspect she'll be working out of Wiltshire from now on.”

 

Hermione flushed at Luna's comment and went to get her gift out of the desk.

 

Severus leaned towards Luna and said conspiratorially, “How very intuitive of you, my dear. You may be right about that.”

 

Hermione returned with a thin square box in her hand. “Please, sit, both of you,” she said, gesturing to a seating area by the hearth. “Luna, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift privately. It's something I made especially for you.” Hermione handed her the box.

 

Luna removed the ribbon and paper and opened the box. “Oh, Hermione! It's gorgeous.” She ran her finger over the face of the pendant. “I've never seen anything like it.”

 

“I made it with you in mind. Remember years ago, when I tried my hand at making amulets?” Luna nodded. “Well I'd decided to start again, but then I learned about talismans, which are similar, but in general stronger and the energy is more focused.”

 

Hermione reach over and lifted the talisman out of the box. “These two small gems are your birthstone, amethyst, known for repelling negative energy and enhancing intuition. This larger round luminous stone is moonstone, because it made me think of you—Luna. It attracts a positive energy flow, and stops other things from sapping your energy. And this big smoky white stone is quartz, it's a good balance stone.” Hermione turned the pendant over to show Luna the runes. “See, I chose Algiz, for protection and  to channel energies appropriately, Kenaz for the fire of transformation and regeneration, and Sowilo for the life-force, health.”

 

Luna slipped the chain over her head. “Thank you so much. I love it, Hermione. You're the best friend in the world.” She wrapped her arms around Hermione in a tight hug.

 

“So, do you feel anything Luna?” Hermione asked hesitantly. “I mean can you feel any of the spells, the protection, positive energy, anything?”

 

Luna shrugged with a smile. “I feel good. I feel loved. It's nice.”

 

Hermione tried not to show her disappointment. She gathered up the ribbon and paper to throw away. Blaise tagged after her and grabbed her wrist. “Hermione, wait. I know what you were trying to do. Severus told me.”

 

She rubbed a thumb under her eye to brush away a tear. “I didn't want to say anything. If it didn't work I didn't want either of you to be disappointed.”

 

“I want you to know how much I appreciate what you tried to do for her. But you know what? I'm not disappointed at all. Sure, if it had worked it would have been nice. But it wouldn't have changed how I feel at all. Even if she never gets her magic back, I'll still love her just as much as I do right now.”

 

“Oh, Blaise!” Hermione threw her arms around her friend and hugged him tight. “I am so happy that Luna has you. And you're absolutely right, she is perfect just as she is.”

 

They both turned to look across the room and saw Luna having an animated discussion with Severus by the fireplace. She seemed excited about something and was pointing at the mantel, while Severus had a blank look on his face.

 

Blaise laughed, “I think we'd better go save Severus. I don't think he fully appreciates Luna's perfection as much as you and I do.”

 

They started across the room, but Hermione stopped dead in her tracks halfway across the room when she heard Luna say something to Severus about Nargles. She grabbed Blaise's wrist in a death grip.

 

“Luna?” Hermione's voice was low and tense.

 

“Yes, Hermione?”

 

“Did you just say something about Nargles?”

 

“Oh yes, I did,” said Luna. “I don't want to seem rude, but I thought Severus should know that there's a whole nest of Nargles living up on the mantel. Something should be done or before you know it, you'll have a whole colony of the little buggers.”

 

“Luna? Can you sense the Nargles right now?”

 

Luna's eyes grew even larger than usual. “I...Oh my... I can!”

 

Hermione felt a rush of excitement. “Blaise! She feels the Nargles!” With a shout of joy, Blaise gave Hermione a hard, fast hug before turning to sweep Luna into a tight embrace, twirling her around and round.

 

“Let's give them their privacy,” Hermione said as she grabbed Severus hand and pulled him out of the library, closing the door behind them.

 

In the hallway, Severus looked at her in total confusion. “I have no idea what just happened back there.”

 

Hermione grinned like a mad woman. “Don’t you see? Luna could feel the Nargles. It means her magic is coming back.”

 

“Hermione, there was absolutely nothing on that mantel. It's all in her head.”

 

“Of course it's in her head, Severus, but why should that mean that it's not real.” She held his hand over her heart. “You can't see my love for you, but I can assure you that it's very real. Do you believe that?”

 

Severus gave her one of his rare smiles and bent to kiss her tenderly. “Always.”

 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here are the prompts that inspired me to write this story. I decided to combine these two ideas together into my story.
> 
> * Post war. Severus' books have seen much better days. Hermione needs a job that won't drive her crazy. Severus has old books and manuscripts that need TLC, binding, mending, and cataloguing. Perhaps Lucius's library has fallen on hard times, and needs a new home? 
> 
> * Post War, Hermione has gone into seclusion and has taken up creating Magical Artifacts anonymously. Highly sought after and very expensive, the unknown artist has a long waiting list of offers. A Former not-quite-as-dead-as-they-thought Professor has been looking for the mysterious Craftsman (probably at Lucius' insistence). Why, and what happens next?


End file.
